Not A Fairytale
by Jinko
Summary: Every fairytale has some truth to it. When Draco Malfoy is used as the Dark Lord's guinea pig, he slips into a daily coma, only waking during the night. The only cure to this is a kiss from his one true love.
1. Prologue Chapter One: To Try

**Author's Note: Yays! So I'm returning to writing. It might be a good thing. It might be a bad thing. I haven't posted anything for maybe a year…and I'm writing this particular part on a train on the way to my mother's because I haven't seen her in months. I can't guarantee the same weekly posts that was given for MBUS and MOC (which is still being reconsidered…okay, so I stare at the blinking cursor for maybe two minutes before something else catches my eye…). I'm now in my third year at uni, so things are gonna be a bit hectic.**

**Summary: Every fairytale has some truth to it. When Draco Malfoy is used as the Dark Lord's guinea pig, he slips into a daily coma, only waking during the night. The only cure to this is a kiss from his one true love.**

**Warnings: Angst (but not to my normal standards), torture, WAFF (how…strange…) and a lot of swearing. I doubt a lemon will show up in this…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter one of nineteen.**

**Not A Fairytale**

**Prologue**

**-Jinko-**

-

With a flick of his wrist, he caused the pale body on the stone floor to flinch, quiver, scream and bleed. He would smirk when he heard the bones crunch under his spells. The rush he experienced when he saw the long rivers stream down the stained flesh caused his own skin to tingle pleasantly. And the screams-oh how he enjoyed them. The boy beneath him had the most sinful voice when he spoke normally, but when he screamed, it was like he was defiling an angel.

The only thing that made it better for him was the scar on the boy's arm. It was his. The beautiful boy was his. He was his to do whatever he wanted. He couldn't express the sensations that thought caused. The boy was his to make, break and utterly destroy and had had done the first two options. And he was quickly moving onto the third. He couldn't wait to destroy the Malfoy heir.

They had gone beyond the usual Cruciatus Curse. If he used it on the blonde any longer, he'd go insane. He hadn't seen it happen lately. He was cautious around the curse now. It wasn't half as much fun to use on enemies that slipped off the rails, so he deliberately stopped when he knew Malfoy was close.

It didn't matter. He knew plenty of other spells that would harm him and maim him just as well. Directing his wand easily, the blonde was sent crashing to the other side of the cell. A smile crept across his mouth when he heard the bones crack sickeningly against the stone there and ordered his magic to bind Malfoy to the dungeon wall. With a rattle, both slim wrists were chained in place by the shackles he was so familiar with.

He watched as Malfoy's eyelids drooped lowly as the darkness of the unconscious world started to take over.

"No you don't," he objected and knelt down, slipping his body over the young Slytherin's. He deliberately positioned himself so that he was above Malfoy's wounded thighs, kneeling with all his weight on the slit limbs. Instantly, Malfoy's body jolted as he tried to get away from the hot pressure that burned his entire body. A howl of pain was ripped from the torn throat and salty tears ran down Malfoy's skinny face.

He had noticed that Malfoy's body had become little more than skin and bones after two months of near starvation.

Pocketing his wand, he reached out and grabbed Malfoy's pointed chin, forcing their eyes to meet.

"This is what you deserve," his high pitched voice claimed. "If you had been strong enough to kill Dumbledore yourself, I wouldn't have to put you through this." He ran his ice cold hands up Malfoy's bare torso and slipped a finger into a wound he found between two ribs. Again, Malfoy cringed and voiced his pain. It was music to him. Hearing the blonde go through so much after he disappointed his lord was something that made him happy.

"If you and your father hadn't disappointed me so much, you'd be safe, Draco. But no, you're both pathetic and deserve to lose every drop of blood I spill from your veins. It's best there, you jumped up little bastard," he continued with a hiss. "You might have the purest of blood within the wizarding world, but you and your father are useless to me."

With a sneer, he sent the back of his hand across Malfoy's face. Such physicality was rare from him. Very few could claim that they annoyed him to the point of forcing him to being physical. And yet Malfoy managed it again and again and again, which he showed by striking him constantly. He loved to watch that perfect face swell and break under his hand. On a particularly hard hit, he felt the boy's left cheekbone crack under his knuckles. With pleased eyes, he watched as Malfoy fell unconscious.

Waving his wand again, he healed the boy's injuries like he did every night. This was perfect as it allowed him to beat upon the boy until he was broken and bleeding and beautiful in that state whenever he felt like it. Merlin knew he'd never get enough of seeing the boy in that state. It's what he deserved, after all. He let out a heavy sigh and stood. When he left the dungeon, the door crashed to a close behind him.

His most loyal, Severus Snape, met his eyes before they glanced over the boy chained to the wall.

"He'll be alright," he sighed angrily. No matter how he treated Malfoy, he always made sure he'd be fine for the next day. And for some strange reason, Severus was overly concerned with his well-being. He suspected that the Potions Master was oddly attached to the boy. "Severus, have you finished the potion I asked of you?"

Severus held his head high, but despite how much he wanted to, he couldn't see far past those inky black eyes.

"It's only a few hours away. I came here to tell you that."

With a smirk, he raised his wand to point at Malfoy through the bars of the door. "_Sectumsempra_," he hissed out. Three deadly gashes ripped his skin apart, leaving him bloody and open. "Give him another blood replenishing potion but do _not_ heal him. I want him scarred like that for the rest of his life."

His subordinate nodded his head at the order and turned to face the blonde. The man carried with him several different potions-especially the ones Malfoy was most likely to need. It never surprised him, but that was to be expected of Snape.

The other doings of the night called to him. He had things planned for that night, especially since he was to get his potion the next day. Oh how he was looking forward to getting his hands on that potion. Just as he walked past a window on the second floor, he caught his reflection.

When his eyes had changed during his transformation, he had been quite pleased. No one else in the world had eyes quite like his. They were red.

-

Harry Potter jolted awake in his sleep, covering his face with his hands as his entire body shook with the aftershocks of his dream. He had been in Voldemort's head again. He had been there and he had seen what the evil bastard was doing and he had seen what he was doing to Malfoy.

Never before had he felt so ill after one of those visions. It caused him to shake violently before the vomit finally came up.

**-**

**Chapter One: To Try**

**-**

They all stared at him as he told his story. It wasn't the easiest thing that he's had to do. Voldemort's torture had sickened him and he knew he was as white as a sheet as he recalled his dream. The remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix took in his every word. They couldn't seem to believe that Voldemort would attack his own follower. Especially not Malfoy of all people.

Harry took in a deep breath before he finally expressed the happiness Voldemort had felt when he realised his potion was to be his within the day.

"Do you know what kind of potion it was?" Minerva McGonagall asked softly once Harry had finished.

"I don't have a clue," Harry revealed weakly. "All I know is that he was beyond ecstatic. It made him so happy."

"And Snape's brewing these deadly potions for him?" Remus Lupin muttered under his breath. "He just happened to get his hands on the greatest Potions Master in the entire United Kingdom. This isn't going to be good for our side." Gingerly, his hands ran through his greying hair, reminding Harry just how close they were to the full moon.

Remus, however, had noticed the changes in Harry. Since Albus' death, Harry had slipped from everyone. He had thought that Sirius' death had affected Harry horribly, but the death of the headmaster had really changed the boy. They had talked after it and Harry had confessed that he had no intention of returning to the school. Hogwarts wouldn't be the same place after Albus died. It wasn't the place Harry had wanted to be. Without Albus, the school wasn't safe for Harry. It made Hogwarts vulnerable and that put not only Harry in danger, but all the other students.

The attack in Hogwarts made everyone wonder how safe they were. They wondered if Harry's presence made Hogwarts a greater threat. On the other hand, though, if Harry was gone, they'd lose the extra protection of the Aurors and the only living being known to defy the Dark Lord would disappear from the grounds. Such thoughts had put several of the parents off sending their child to Hogwarts for the next year. Most had decided that their child would be safe enough at home and didn't allow them to go to Hogwarts.

With all the changes occurring around them, Remus had to sigh. Not only was the public outlook and Harry's emotional state different, so was the Golden Trio. He had been watching the three young Gryffindors for years and it was only now that he had started to see the cracks. When Sirius had died, Harry had lost control of himself, but now, he was burying himself deeper and deeper into defeating Voldemort.

Harry had seemingly taken up Hermione's role in the group and had begun to read as much as he could. He was constantly reading thick tomes regarding the Dark Arts and spells to help him in the battle. The young man was working on becoming stronger. Often, Remus would see Ron and Hermione together, talking, without Harry. Upon question, he found out that Harry had willingly chosen not to be near them for that. It surprised Remus that Harry wouldn't want to be near his friends, but it also made sense.

Hermione and Ron were the closest things Harry had to family. If they were to get caught up even worse in the battles ahead, he'd have nothing.

However, knowing this didn't make Remus feel any better about the situation they were in. It was too much for Harry. To know that he'd have to take on Voldemort by himself was just far too much.

The timing couldn't have been any worse. Harry didn't need to see such traumatising events. For him to view the torture of one of Voldemort's own was devastating.

And now they had to worry about this potion Voldemort was receiving.

"Remus?"

The werewolf looked up at Harry and sighed at the boy's worried face. "Yes, Harry?"

"Are you alright? You've been staring off for a while now."

Remus shook his head with a soft smile. Even though Harry was the one destined for all this trouble, he was worrying about him. "It's okay. I've just been thinking."

For a moment, Harry looked like he was going to question him, but clearly decided against it. He turned to look at Minerva. "So what are we going to do?"

"We need to think about this," Minerva said softly. "Do we try to get Malfoy out of there or do we focus on the potion more?"

Remus watched as Harry's face paled slightly. The thought of Malfoy being stuck in that place, suffering the way he was, was just plain sickening.

"We should focus on the potion," Moody declared from his seat. "Let Malfoy get what was coming to him. He and his father deserve much worse than what they're getting."

That, of course, got violent reactions out of nearly everyone in the room. "No one deserves to be tortured, Moody," Molly Weasley objected instantly. "He might have been a Death Eater, but there's no need for him to be going through that. As for Lucius Malfoy, he'll be receiving the Kiss without a doubt. The evidence against him is far too great. There's nothing worse than that." She let out a deep breath. "The boy, however, should be our greatest priority. He's Harry and Ron's age, for Merlin's sake. No one should go through all that torture, especially not a child."

"And just think-if we can secure him within the Order-if we can use You-Know-Who's torture against him, he'd be an asset amongst the fighters," Shacklebolt added. "He's the only person who's been capable of destroying Hogwarts' defences. How strong must he be?"

"Kingsley-." Molly's unimpressed tone was cut off short.

"We can't use a Malfoy in the Order. There's no need for a little git like him," Fred piped up. Both he and George had been added to the Order over the past year.

"Besides, look at how well our last Slytherin turned out," Tonks breathed. It silenced everyone.

Speaking about Snape and his betrayal was fairly taboo. No one did it.

Remus looked over at his younger lover and reached for her hand. She was close to tears thinking about Albus' death and how Snape's betrayal had hurt them all.

"However," she continued, "he is my baby cousin and I don't want to see a family member go through hell, no matter how much of a git he is. Lucius might have no chance, but Draco still might."

Harry struggled to find his voice. "He couldn't do it," he recalled softly. "He couldn't kill Professor Dumbledore, even though the other Death Eaters around him were supporting him. As much as I'd hate to admit it, he's not a Death Eater. Malfoy doesn't have it in him to be a killer like the other Death Eaters. That's why he's being tortured by Voldemort."

The name earned him a few shivers from the adults around him.

"I just can't justify saving Malfoy, though," George said, wringing his own hands at the admission. "We'd put too many people in danger just for him…it's not right."

"And it's right to let him suffer? Wouldn't we save a victim of Voldemort? That's what he is now."

"Even though that's true," Minerva claimed, "we can't afford to go on a kamikaze mission to get him out of there. We can't risk so many people just for one."

Harry looked down at his lap. It did make sense, but he couldn't get those images out of his head. Malfoy had been screaming with pain. None of them could see what he was going through.

"It's just…"

"It could be falsified again, Harry," Remus told him and retracted his hand from Tonks so that he could readjust how he was sitting. "He could be trying to lure you the same way he did with Sirius."

"Why would he use Malfoy then? Everyone knows I don't care at all for that prat. And I could feel it. He loved cutting into Malfoy's body. I could feel my own fingers…" He trailed off. He really didn't want to vocalise how good it felt to slip his finger between the blonde's ribs or how excited the thought of him forever being scarred made him. "It wasn't fake. It couldn't have been fake."

The adults around him took in his words and said nothing more on it. "So what are we going to do?"

-

Severus didn't want to do it. Such a potion was deadly and outlawed for a reason. However, it was either he did this or both he and Draco would be killed. They were his options. It didn't take a genius to know which one he had chosen. Working together, they could be a strong force against the Dark Lord, and he was certain that after everything Draco had gone through, he wouldn't want to stay by the Dark Lord's side. It was only out of pure spite for the boy that Draco was still alive. The Dark Lord hadn't been happy with Draco's performance at all. Severus had seen greater wizards killed for less.

However, it would seem as if the Malfoys had pushed their luck a little too far. Lucius was imprisoned in Azkaban and was surely on the waiting list for the Dementor's Kiss. There was nothing Voldemort could do to him there that would be any worse than what he was already receiving.

And Narcissa Malfoy had left the country it would seem. The Dark Lord had searched for her briefly, but gave up since she hadn't been Marked. He figured Bellatrix would do a good enough job upon finding her sister. Blood may be thicker than water, but a servitude to Voldemort was liquid cement.

Narcissa wasn't worth the search. Especially not when he had Draco to play with. Every time Severus looked in on the boy, he was bleeding profusely from the several wounds Voldemort had inflicted. When he was allowed to, he would make sure he wasn't bleeding too badly had had any infections. He was sure Voldemort knew that he was doing this, but let the Dark Lord think whatever he wanted to. There was no disguising his fatherly love for Draco. As his godfather, it was very nearly expected.

Despite going through the weeks of tending to Draco's wounds, the hardest thing he had yet to do came when he handed over the potion to his Lord.

The _Never After_ hadn't been successfully brewed in generations. The Ministry kept an eye on the ingredients and pounced on anyone who bought two of the ingredients in the one store. For this very reason alone, several of the Death Eaters had to purchase what was needed at different shops and stores in several different countries just so Severus could brew the potion for the Dark Lord. None of them knew why they had to do such a random thing, but each Death Eater played their parts and brought back each herb, rune and animal part back to Severus. The potion then took an entire month to prepare and concoct.

By that time, Draco had lost more blood than Severus had ever seen. It was only through the many blood replenishing potions he administered that Draco continued to live.

And now-and now Voldemort intended to use the Never Afteragainst him.

When Severus had first read up on the potion, he realised that it was the base of most Muggle fairytales. The poisoned apple had been based off the Never After potion, though the effects of the apple were much kinder than that of the potion Severus had brewed.

The Never After puts the drinker into a comatose state during the day-plaguing them with nightmares-and allows them to wake during the night. It is rumoured that only those who had yet to fall in love could be affected, but that made no difference to Severus. Being as young as he was, Draco was sure to have not known love yet and would therefore fall into the daily coma after consuming the potion.

Worse yet, there was only one cure for the effects. It was true love's first kiss.

And while that at first seemed corny and like a waste of time and effort on Severus' behalf, the reality was that Draco would have to find a lover in the times where everyone else was sleeping.

Not only did that complicate things, but the records weren't too kind. Few had fallen victim to the potion. Over eighty percent had chosen to take their own lives before they could fall in love. The nightmares were frightening beyond belief. Within that eighty percent, thirty-five percent had gone insane. The twenty percent of the victims who went on to find their true love all showed signs of anxiety and insanity in the long run.

Not handing over this potion was ideal, but he had the Dark Lord bearing over him. And then the Unbreakable Vow attacked him. If he didn't give Voldemort what he wanted, Draco would be killed on the spot. At least with the potion in Voldemort's hands, they had a chance of making a better life for the blonde boy.

With those thoughts in mind, Severus made up his mind and ladled what he could into a vial. It didn't have to be much. Only a few drops had to be consumed for it to be successful. Luckily, the mixture would spoil the moment water was added to the equation, so Severus did just that before he turned his back on it and left the room. The last thing he needed was for others to get their hands on it. An outbreak of Never After victims was beyond a nightmare.

Heavy thoughts bogged him down as he travelled up to the room where he knew his Lord was waiting for him. During the day, Voldemort spent his time bent over various tomes and maps, reading all he could about certain spells and locations. He was always planning something. And if he wasn't planning, he was torturing someone for entertainment.

Severus walked in on the latter of the two. Voldemort was sitting at his usual throne, watching his followers play. They had grabbed some random Ministry official and had decided to beat him up for two days straight now. From what Severus had seen, the left arm of that man would never function properly ever again and his shins were little more than bloody pulp.

Draco's presence made today different, though. He was curled up on the floor by the Dark Lord's feet. Chains kept him in place, but he was conscious enough to wince whenever the Death Eaters broke bones. He was a mess, dressed in nothing more than the grey school slacks he had worn the night of Dumbledore's death. The cuts on his chest had been magically healed, it appeared, but three silver lines were forever engraved into his skin. Voldemort must have been proud about that. He adored every mark he made on the bodies of those he possessed.

The moment the Dark Lord's eyes fell upon him, Severus felt the atmosphere in the room change. It was as if the Dark Lord had been waiting for this all his life. He sat up stiffly with excitement and quickly shooed the Death Eaters out of the room. With a wave of his hand, they were gone and the Ministry man was dragged along behind them.

"You have it for me?" he asked, almost like a child awaiting a gift.

As he nodded his head, Severus pulled the vial from his pocket. He had to force his body not to shake as he passed it on. His fingers very nearly didn't let go.

The moment it was in Voldemort's hand, he raised it up so he could look at it in the light. The blue potion twinkled back at him.

"I'm proud, Severus."

Severus could only bow his head. 'Proud' would not be his state of mind. His stomach churned and the guilt attacked him when Voldemort dragged the blonde between his legs up and draped the top half of the boy over his left thigh, bending his body painfully to the side. With one last tug, Draco was forced to look up at the Dark Lord with his back turned to Severus.

"You, my boy, are my guinea pig as of today," Voldemort said, deceptively tender, as he ran his hand down Draco's cheek. The same hand snuck around Draco's skull to thread into his hair and tighten until Draco's neck was strained backwards. His mouth opened with a silent gasp of pain and it took all Severus had not to interfere.

Once he was certain he had Draco's absolute attention, he dangled the vial above the blonde's face. "What do you know of the Never After potion?" When he got no answer, he continued. "The Never After potion is what some fairytales are based on. It's the poisoned apple, Malfoy." Red eyes stared deep into Draco's grey and discovered he was no longer holding back on him. No, the Malfoy heir had his protective walls down. He had truly given up. That, alone, told Voldemort that he knew something about the potion. "Did you know that the consumer is forced asleep during the day and can wake only at night?" A flicker behind Draco's eyes told him that he knew that already. "Ah, so you did. But did you know that it's rumoured to work on only those who had never fallen in love before?" He hadn't. "I see." Instantly, his red eyes snapped up at Severus. "Come here."

He obeyed and was before his lord in a moment's time. Severus had very rarely been this close to the older wizard. Often, Voldemort allowed his servants to kiss the hem of his robes, but they were never allowed to stand too close to him. For that reason alone, Severus knelt down beside Draco's broken body.

"You've loved before, haven't you?" Voldemort quizzed him and Severus instantly felt his defences flare.

"Yes, my Lord. I have loved before."

"Lily Potter, if my memory serves me right. You begged that I save her life."

Knowing that Draco had heard such words stabbed Severus deeply. The younger Slytherin didn't react, however. Lucius had taught him well.

"Yes, my Lord."

"Are you still in love with her?"

The questions obviously had a point. "No, my Lord."

"Are you in love now?"

This stumped him. He looked up at Voldemort, holding the other's gaze, as he thought the question over. "No, I'm not, my Lord."

Voldemort looked as deeply as he possibly could into Severus' eyes, determined to see the truth behind them. When he was convinced, he leant back in his chair, stroking Draco's hair.

Draco couldn't help but let out a gasp as the Dark Lord's fingers tightened again before he let go. "Don't move."

The order was final and directed to the young blonde. He used his left hand to now uncork the vial. With the smallest flick of his right wrist, he dripped some of the blue liquid onto his index finger and motioned for Severus to lean in towards him.

Despite the fear building up within him, Severus obeyed again and leant in close to his master.

"While I am eternally grateful that you provided me with this potion, Severus, you're needed in my little plan." With that, he reached forward and smeared the potion over Severus' lower lip. He gathered up more from the vial before tracing the Potion Master's upper lip as well. The look he sent him was enough to tell Severus what he had to do. Wordlessly, Severus' tongue slipped out to lick up what was placed on his lips. He ingested it, swallowing it, trying his hardest not to taste it or think about the consequences. Beside him, Draco was shaking in his attempt not to move. The starved boy wouldn't have much energy left in him. Not after everything that had happened to him. He was clearly struggling to not faint then and there. The fear wouldn't have helped at all.

"Well?"

"No matter the time of day, the Never After potion always sends the consumer into a coma. I must be immune to it because of my prior affections."

Voldemort nodded his head before he tipped Draco's head up, grasping at his hair yet again. All it took was one tip of his wrist for the rest of the potion to be poured down Draco's throat. Severus was sure Draco wouldn't even have the strength to resist it. For a moment, the blonde choked on the liquid, but had no other choice. He swallowed it all.

The moment the vial was tossed back to Severus, Draco's body slipped down from the upright position it had been in. Before Severus could prevent it from happening, Draco fell down, completely unconscious, and started to convulse.

Voldemort's smile nearly split open his face. He couldn't have looked any happier at that moment. The potion clearly worked on those who had never fallen in love before.

With a wave of his wand and a muttered charm, a large table appeared in the middle of the room.

"I want him on top of it so everyone can see what happens to those who disobey me, Severus," Voldemort said, watching sadistically as Draco writhed by his feet.

Black eyes looked at him wearily and wanted nothing more than to snatch the boy up and take him away. However, he knew he had no choice. Quickly, and as gently as he possibly could, Severus brought Draco into his arms and swiftly carried the surprisingly light teen to the table. It scared him that he could feel the boy's ribs and spine through the thin layer of skin. All the while, Draco fought against whatever it was in his dream that was clearly scaring him. More than once he struck out and attacked Severus instead. And that was just on the trip to the table. It couldn't have been more than fifteen paces.

Cautiously, Severus lowered him down onto the hard, wooden surface, and watched painfully as Draco continued to fight.

"It's a pity," Voldemort sighed from his throne. "The Malfoys are such pretty people. Even Narcissa was perfectly chosen for the family. If he wasn't so weak, he could have graced my bed, much like his father has before."

Severus had heard of such rumours before but had never had them confirmed until just then.

"I want Lucius to be freed from Azkaban, Severus. He's not worth much, but he is a good lay." He stopped to think for a moment. "And I want Narcissa brought in so she can see her son's suffering. We'll have to teach her for raising such a weak boy. I never would have expected it from them. The heir to the Malfoy family and a child of the Black family. You'd think they'd procreate a little better than this."

Severus took in the disappointed tone in the Dark Lord's voice. "Lucius didn't raise him as a killer," he observed, watching the blonde's body. "And Narcissa's gone into hiding. Both her husband and her son have been outed as Death Eaters. She had no other choice."

Voldemort waved his hand dismissively. "She's doing it to avoid us, Severus. The Ministry and their Aurors mightn't be able to find her, but it'll be an easy task for us. I swear, the journalists for that disgusting paper do a better job at finding those who go into hiding than the Aurors do. A scorned woman would be better at finding a hiding soul." He laughed at his own joke. "If only she had a lesbian lover. We could tell that woman that Narcissa had cheated on her. She'd be found and killed in no time. Don't you think?"

"Yes, sir. Women are extremely strange like that."

The Dark Lord shrugged it off and smiled again when he heard Draco whimper. "Do you know why weaklings like Draco Malfoy make such noises when they're being tormented, Severus? Mind you, when I tortured him down in the dungeons, he barely made a sound. It's the Malfoy pride Lucius tutored him in. If only he had spent more time in other areas."

"I don't know, my Lord."

"We scream to prevent suffering in silence. I want you to remember that." Voldemort let out a deep breath and watched as his beloved snake slithered into the room. The doors were charmed so that whenever she went anywhere near any of them, they'd open automatically for her. She was the only creature alive to walk-or slither as it was in this case-in on Voldemort without his expressed permission first.

The hissing that the two made whenever they communicated made Severus' inside dry up and die. He hated hearing them talk. It made him quite anxious since he didn't have a clue what they said to each other.

Laughter came from his master, causing Severus to turn around and face him properly. "Nagini wishes to feed upon your godson, Severus. I've disallowed her to. She's finding it strange since I often give her such a gift when she asks of it. Normally when they get to that state of being, I'm more than willing to give them over to her. They're not fun when they've reach their pain limit. This time, however," Voldemort paused slightly to let Nagini slide halfway up his lap so her head was resting there, almost like an obedient dog, "I've told her not to. Draco is still my little experiment for the moment, after all." Red eyes suddenly tipped up and eyed Severus. "You certainly are lucky that you weren't lying to me. If you had, you'd be in the same state as our favourite blonde boy there. And could you imagine that? You'd be punished further for lying to me."

"I'd never lie to you, sir."

Voldemort laughed openly at that, startling Nagini. "I highly doubt that, Severus, but the words meant something. You're far too guarded to not be hiding something."

"It's a force of habit," Severus ground out through his teeth.

The older wizard seemingly accepted that answer and leant back in his chair again. "I'm looking forward to Lucius' return. It has been months since I've had an acceptable bed partner." Severus nearly shivered when Voldemort sought out his eyes, and that caused him to laugh. "Do not fear, Severus. I'm not interested in you and never will be. I find myself attracted to blondes. If I were interested in men your shading, poor dear Harry Potter would have something else to fear when I finally get my hands on him."A dramatic sigh fell from his lips. "That'll be all, Severus. I have nothing else for you. Send Bellatrix in if you see her. She mightn't have the stunning looks of her sister, but she's good enough and willing for the night."

Severus nodded his head and tried his hardest to leave the room without looking at Draco. One glance would cause him to turn back around and attempt to rescue the boy. Now wasn't the time. Especially not with Voldemort and Nagini on watch. They'd never let him out. And then he'd have to fight against the guards by the door. He'd have to defend himself along with Draco's unconscious body by himself.

Something was nagging at him, though, and he knew it was the Unbreakable Vow. How it had allowed him to make the potion, he'd never know. His promise to Narcissa had been thrown out the window, it would seem. It made him wonder if Narcissa was still alive or not.

Just as he reached the doors, Draco's whimpers reached his ears and shivers raced down his spine. The boy was suffering in whichever nightmare he was having. It was then that Severus resolved to get Draco out of there the next chance he got.

He walked through the doors with a heavy weight on his shoulders, but ignored it the best he could. He headed down to his labs, where he would plot his next move. Halfway down, he ran into the one woman he'd been instructed to speak to.

"The Dark Lord requests your presence," he told her dully as he passed Bellatrix in a nondescript hallway.

Her smile mirrored Voldemort's. Bellatrix had always been a shade darker than most other people in the world. She was right up there with Voldemort himself. It was only her love for the Dark Lord that prevented her from being one of the darkest of the entire wizarding world. She had all the passion and none of the conscience needed to be as dangerous as Voldemort. Unfortunately for her, she was nothing but a sheep and not as strong as a few Aurors. Maybe if she had a century to work things out, she'd have the ability.

For now, though, she was a sheep and Voldemort was the shepherd. She did everything he said without a second thought. Severus hoped that that never changed. The last thing they needed was for her to go out on her own to cause destruction.

"Feeling a bit lonely is he?" she asked Severus. Her voice always annoyed him. Whenever she spoke, it was as if she was speaking down to him or taunting him. He, like every other male Death Eater, held the same position as she. She was barren and couldn't give the Dark Lord what he wanted. He had wanted an heir when his body had been restored, only to find out that his most loyal Death Eater wasn't capable of conceiving. That made her useless in his eyes and on the same page as the male Death Eaters.

"He wants Lucius out of prison, so this could be your last night with him," Severus replied as he kept walking. He didn't need to see her face to know that it now looked as if she had sucked on a lemon. As he turned the corner towards his lab, he could hear the heavy clip-clopping of her heels as she stormed down the marble hall towards the throne room.

The moment Severus got into his undersized lab, he cast multiple spells to check that no one had snuck in, no one was still there and that no one could get in without his permission. Wards were put up all around the room. From there, he started planning. There was so much for him to do over the next few hours to ensure Draco would be out and to safety before the next night.

He'd be unconscious for the rest of this day, throughout the night and the next day. He'd awaken at about seven-ish tomorrow night.

-

**Feedback? I'd like to know what people this of this one. I think I'll leave it for a bit before posting the next chapter…I'm halfway through the third…**


	2. Chapter Two: To Dream

**Author's Note: Sorry these chapters are much smaller than my usual standards.**

**thewriterwannabe: I can't help it…torturing Draco is just so easy and is kinda a theme for me…nearly a signature XD. **

**Rika: Oh, m'dear, I've missed your reviews. I was so happy to see your name again. **

**Rin89: You make me happy X)**

**Eulalie: I know not having a lemon will turn people off reading this, but I just can't slot it in with the plan. EDIT: HOLY CRAP!! I REALISED AT ABOUT THREE THIS MORNING (I wrote the above statement three days ago) THAT I HAVE ONE PLANNED…!! I'm a dick. XXD**

**Thanks for the plenty reviews. I was basically using the first chapter as a trial, but it seems like it's got a good enough readership for me to continue on a weekly basis. **

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter two of nineteen.**

-

**Chapter Two: To Dream**

-

"There wasn't anything you could do, Harry," Hermione pointed out softly, watching him as he paced back and forth in front of her and Ron. They were all sitting in the dorm room, with Ron on his bed and Hermione on Harry's.

Harry was anxious and guilty and completely fucked up in the head thanks to the vision he received that night. Voldemort had given the potion to Malfoy. He'd forced Snape into taking it and then he'd done the same to Malfoy and Harry saw it all from Voldemort's point of view. Even though he knew that it wasn't his fault, and that Hermione was completely right, he still felt guilty for it, because all he saw was his own fingers running over the blonde teen. He felt as if he was the one who'd poured that horrendous blue potion down Malfoy's throat and then sat and watched him twitch on the table for hours afterwards.

"Hermione's right," Ron agreed, leaning forward with his elbows perched on his knees. "You and You-Know-Who are two completely different people. You're just seeing what he's doing. It's always been like this."

Harry made a non-committal noise and kept walking. They hadn't heard Malfoy's cries. They hadn't seen the way his body was cut up. They would never know what it was like to be in the mind of a madman.

"Do you think he noticed you were there?" Hermione changed tactics.

"I don't think he'd care if I watched him torture Malfoy," Harry admitted gruffly. "If anything, he's probably happier knowing that we have something else to be scared about. This potion…it's hell by the sounds of things. And he's using it as a _punishment_."

"Hopefully the professors will be able to tell us a little more about it. I haven't been able to find anything on it in the library."

At least Harry had his friends to smile about. He could have sworn he heard the disappointment in Hermione's voice when she actually admitted that she couldn't find any information on her own.

"It seems like a really dark potion, mate," Ron said as he looked between Hermione and Harry. "If Hermione can't find anything-even with her free pick of any book from the Restricted Section-then it's something the professors don't ever wanting us to know about."

"I got the feeling Snape didn't even know if it was real or not," Harry breathed, running a hand through his hair. "I figured Snape knew just about everything there is to know about deadly potions."

"And yet you still use his book from last year," Hermione grumbled under her breath.

Harry shuddered as he remembered Voldemort was using the Sectumsempra against Malfoy now, just as he once did. It made him feel a little sick to his stomach. The thought of them doing the same things…

"We should be going soon," Hermione said, interfering with Harry's thoughts. "Professor McGonagall said she wanted us there at three."

"This would be so much easier if we could just Apparate everywhere," Ron grumbled with a small smile on his face as he tried to ease away some of the tension.

-

The way Professor Slughorn just about slipped out of his chair told the three young Gryffindors all they needed to know. This potion was bad news. Now, Slughorn wasn't the bravest of men, but he knew a thing or two about potions and such a reaction, from anyone, was a bad sign.

"You said the Never After potion?" he repeated in a whisper, clearly hoping that he was wrong.

Harry nodded his head once and watched as Slughorn repeated the process of losing the colour in his face and drooping his shoulders as low as they could go. "That's what Voldemort and Snape called it."

"And the Malfoy boy fell in a convulsing heap." It was a statement more than a question, even though Harry hadn't even mentioned that part of the dream yet.

"Yes. Voldemort gave some to Snape first with no effect, and then gave the rest to Malfoy."

"Poor child," Slughorn breathed before looking up at Minerva. "You see, this boy is now going to slip into a coma every morning, where he'll be plagued by his worst nightmares. He'll wake the moment the sun goes down and given a slight reprieve, but the dreams have been known to send people insane, Minerva. Most victims kill themselves when they're awake."

Hiding her worry, she asked, "Is there any cure, Horace?"

The entire room was now looking at Slughorn, hoping for a positive answer. The Malfoys might have been on the top of the Order's hate-list, but they were also now victims of the war, as well.

Slughorn nodded his head slowly, and just once. "Yes, but…" He paused and ran a hand down his face. "The Never After potion is the basis for several fairytales. It is the apple in Snow White and the spindle in Sleeping Beauty. Both princesses were woken by true love's first kiss."

The room fell silent with disbelief. "You're joking, right?" Ron asked, receiving a harsh smack on the arm from Hermione. "What? That can't be it. It's just so…lame…"

"When you think about it, it's just as cruel as the torture," Remus said, gaining all the attention. "If Draco is to be awake only when everyone else is sleeping, he'll never get the chance to fall in love."

"That'd be why the potion doesn't work on someone who's loved before," Harry realised, and then remembered why he tried not to say too much at Order meetings. Every eye turned to him. "Voldemort tried it on Snape and it didn't work. He said it was because Snape had been in love before." Naturally, he left out who it was. There was nothing worse than admitting your professor had once loved your mother.

"Indeed," Slughorn agreed. "The potion has been banned for centuries now. I thought the recipe would have been destroyed. And for Snape to actually go through with brewing it…he's a traitor to humanity."

Most of the Weasleys nodded their heads, as did Harry and a few of the Aurors, but a few of the professors and Hermione stayed still at the accusation.

"Yes, well, what we need to be focusing on is how to get Mister Malfoy out of there," Minerva said stoically, trying to move the conversation beyond that. "Harry, do you have any idea where he is?"

Harry shook his head, though he did take a mental note of Minerva using his first name. "I've only ever seen inside the dungeons and the main room. I can't even think of where the house is."

"Any number of loyal subjects could have a dungeon," Arthur said negatively. "We all know You-Know-Who's followers have several large homes."

"He could even be in a castle, for all we know," Tonks added. "He has been known to take over homes by killing the previous owner. They could be anywhere."

"You've never seen anything that might be considered at family crest, Harry?" Remus asked from beside Tonks.

Harry shook his head again. "No. I've never seen any portraits or anything like that, either," he realised as he thought over the visions. Never before had he seen such an empty place before. "I get the feeling they removed anything personal, just in case they figured I'd be able to trace them back."

"So then, that means that Malfoy's just going to suffer?" Hermione asked, clearly disturbed by the idea. "If we can't find a way to get there, then he's…"

"Even if we knew where he was, we'd still have trouble," Moody pointed out from where he stood in a corner. "Would we really risk our people for one Death Eater? This boy is the reason Albus is dead."

"Alastor…" Slughorn's objection was overlooked.

"The boy brought the Death Eaters into the castle, Slughorn. He brought them here and put the students and the professors in danger's way. Do you really think he's worth being saved?"

"He's just a child," Minerva said softly. "Yes, we all know he's why Albus is gone, but the boy was trying to protect his family. Harry has testified to that."

Harry held back his shudder. After everything that happened up in the Astronomy Tower, he was interrogated by the Aurors for days and had to retell the story using Veritaserum.

"And you believe what Malfoy said?"

"I believe You-Know-Who would have threatened him as such and that he'd believe it. Wouldn't you have done what he said if your family was being threatened?" After saying that, she risked a glance at Molly, knowing that the other woman would do anything in her power to ensure her children were safe. She saw the mother sag a little, understanding that perhaps Malfoy wasn't to blame entirely.

The tiniest of peeps came from Tonks, however, causing Remus to turn sharply. For some strange reason, the Auror was tearing up, though she was trying to hide it with her hand.

"Tonks?" Hermione asked softly, but Tonks jumped up and quickly left the room without saying a word. Almost obediently, Remus followed after apologising to everyone.

Everyone exchanged quick glances in silence, leaving the room with an awkward feel to it. And then something seemed to strike Molly, as she got up in a rush, as well, and left the room.

"Umm…what's going on?" Harry questioned in a small voice.

"I'm not too sure," Arthur admitted. "It seems as if Molly's maternal instincts have taken in another one for her to coddle, though."

A small smile breached Harry's face, as it had with the Weasleys sitting with them.

Moody, however, made an angry noise. "Featherbrains, the lot of you. We need to focus on what's important, and I just don't see that this Malfoy child happens to be one of them. Yes, he's now being tortured, but he deserves it and there's nothing we can do about it. All we gotta do is make sure that none of us end up getting caught out by that potion."

His cold attitude caught everyone off guard. To hear one of the 'good guys' talk about a victim that way sickened them.

"Moody's right," one of the Aurors spoke up, catching Harry by surprise. He was a new addition to the Order, and to the Ministry of Magic, but hadn't had much to say before now. Harry wasn't even sure if he had his name right. "We don't need to be risking our lives for that little bastard."

Bill agreed and Harry felt his heart go out to the oldest Weasley child. "He deserves it."

A few more mumbles filled the room, supporting Moody.

To his right, Harry could see that Ron was agreeing with them, but to his left, Hermione was shocked. And, as weird as it was, Harry found himself leaning towards Hermione's view. It wasn't right to leave Malfoy there, with Voldemort, so he could be tortured. If anything, he should have been taken off to the Aurors for sentencing. It wasn't up to Voldemort to punish him for his crimes, and this potion wasn't a suitable punishment.

Silencing everyone, Minerva put it to a vote as to who thought they should look further into saving Malfoy, and who thought he was getting what he deserved. The majority was against helping Malfoy, and Harry felt and understood the glares directed towards him for wanting to help his peer, but there was nothing he could do. There was nothing they could do until they actually found out where Voldemort was staying.

"Well, before we leave," Harry started, feeling his stomach reel slightly, "Voldemort mentioned something about breaking out Mister Malfoy soon."

"Why would he do that? Lucius Malfoy failed him. Snape made it sound as if You-Know-Who didn't want anything to do with him," another Auror put forward.

And this was where Harry's stomach was unsettled. "He made it sound as if…as if he uses Malfoy for sex." Several people in the room seemed to squirm at the idea. "He's using Lestrange for now, but he wants Malfoy back."

"Festy," the twins chimed at the same time, wearing identical looks of disgust.

"That's…unpleasant," Charlie grumbled, scrunching his nose up at the thought. "He's gotta be…what? Old enough to be a great-grandfather now? Ew."

"Thank you, Harry," Minerva sighed, giving Charlie a disapproving glance.

With the failed vote, Harry, Ron and Hermione were dismissed so the adults could have their 'grown-up' meeting (as the twins put it as the younger three were told to leave). Sometimes Harry hated the Order for the way they treated him. He knew as well as they did that it was foretold that he'd be the one to destroy Voldemort, but that didn't stop them from keeping the secrets from him. They were more than willing to forget that he even existed until he was actually needed, and even then they weren't doing much to make him stronger. He had no idea how he'd fight against Voldemort. He'd seen Albus fight the Dark Lord, only to end up equally matched with him.

How the hell was Harry supposed to fight against him and _win_?

Those thoughts were quickly dispelled, however, when the trio stumbled across Remus, Tonks and Molly, who were talking softly in the hallway. Molly and Tonks were in a tight embrace and Remus was standing to the side of them, looking down at his shoes. The Gryffindors must have caught his attention through their noise because he looked up at them keenly.

"Is everything alright, Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked once they were close.

"You can stop calling me 'Professor', Hermione. I haven't taught you since you were thirteen," he chided softly before he eyed Molly and Tonks. The two women separated and Tonks instantly took Remus' side, grabbing on to his forearm. It was so intimate that the lights switched on for the three teens.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, suddenly realising what was going on. "You two are together…"

"Engaged, actually," Tonks corrected him, but the ring was obviously missing.

"I did not see that coming," Ron admitted, looking very surprised.

"Yes, well…" Molly started, clearly not too sure about what to say.

"That's what all that back in the office was all about?" Hermione questioned with a raised eyebrow. The look Remus sent her had her thinking even harder. He always knew she was much too smart for her age.

"I'm pregnant," Tonks announced, causing more shock to spread through the Golden Trio. "The hormones make me a little crazy at times."

"Oh…" Harry said again, but a little softer this time. His own eyebrows had shot up to his hairline. "Wow."

"Wow, yeah…Really didn't see that coming," Ron agreed. "Kinda dangerous time of your life to be having kids, though, isn't it?" He received another thwack from Hermione for that, though the smile she gave Tonks wasn't genuine, as if Ron had said exactly what everyone was thinking.

And he had.

They were thankful he'd left out the 'shotgun wedding, much?' comment they'd all thought.

"That's what I said," Molly said softly, eyeing the pair. "It's not the greatest of times, but what can you do? When things happen, they happen. We should be thankful that you have something to live for, now. Maybe you'll both be a little more careful when you're out in battles."

Remus nodded his head gravely. "You're right. We've already discussed it and Tonks isn't going on any dangerous missions anymore."

Molly looked like she was about to grab on to Remus' ear and yank harshly, but she stopped herself. "It isn't just Tonks who needs to keep herself safe, Remus. This baby isn't growing up without a father. You shouldn't even be considering doing anything that could get you hurt. You wouldn't want to leave Tonks all alone to raise the baby, would you?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, it was kinda funny to see Remus getting a tongue-lashing from Molly.

He didn't seem to see the humour in the moment, however, and nodded his head again. "Yes, you're right."

"Anyway, the little-kid version of the meeting is over and done with," Harry told them, "so you might want to head back in. They'll be talking about really important things now." He spoke with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. The three adults noticed and shared a look between them, before they let mentioned it at all. "They put saving Malfoy to a vote, too. They're not bothering."

The anger in his voice had Ron giving him a questioning look, but Harry shrugged it off and started to head back to the dorms. He was tired and done with the whole issue. Hermione and Ron followed him without another word. They knew when he was upset and knew how to deal with him.

-

Ginny was waiting for them in the common room when they got back. She was to be completely absent from the meetings, which was something everyone but her agreed to. It wasn't as if the trio didn't tell her what happens in them, but it just felt wrong for someone her age to be there.

"How'd it go?" she asked, putting down the book she was reading and turning on the couch to face them. Harry walked over to an armchair and slipped into it so he was lounging in it sideways, whereas Ron took the other armchair and Hermione sat next to Ginny.

"They've condemned Malfoy," Hermione explained, knowing that Harry wasn't in the mood to talk about it. "They took a vote after Moody gave this speech about Malfoy not deserving to be saved…"

"He doesn't," Ginny interrupted, as if it was a fact as clear as day. "You've seen what happened to Bill. It could have happened to any one of us, or even some of the younger students."

"Malfoy didn't do that. Greyback did it."

"Malfoy let Greyback into the castle, didn't he? He's just as responsible."

"He was forced into it," Hermione argued. "I'd have done the same thing if my family was in trouble. I can't think of any human being that wouldn't."

Ginny froze before she started to glare at Hermione. "Well, the adults seem to prefer him in hell, and I'm sure Ron and Harry feel the same way."

"Actually…"

"What was up with that, Harry?" Ron demanded to know, swivelling so he was facing Harry.

"I don't want to talk about it, Ron," Harry groaned.

"You're on _Malfoy's_ side?" Ginny hissed with outrage. "Hermione-Hermione I can almost understand. She's volleying for house-elf rights, of all things." She ignored Hermione's indignant huff. "But you-you've been a victim to Malfoy's crap for years now."

"And what?" Harry raised his head off the arm so he could glare at his ex. "I'm supposed to not give a crap because of a vendetta? Malfoy's getting his just desserts now that Voldemort's torturing him to insanity? Because that's what this potion does, Ginny. It'll drive him insane, or he'll end up killing himself because of the nightmares."

Ginny looked like she didn't know what to say to that.

"Dumbledore's dead because of him," Ron pointed out angrily.

"And Sirius is dead because of me." He stood suddenly and decided against looking at them. He knew they'd all have the same shocked look on their faces, anyway.

"We went to check out the Department of Mysteries because you thought he was in trouble…"

"And Malfoy was told that if he didn't succeed, his parents would suffer." Gingerly, Harry ran a hand through his messed hair.

"He put everyone at risk…"

"I took you guys with me!"

"We volunteered," Ginny corrected him sternly. "There's a difference."

"Okay, but what would you have done if Voldemort had given you the same option?" Hermione asked, suddenly speaking up to Harry's defence. "I would have done the same thing. Malfoy didn't exactly have a world of opportunities, Ginny. It was kill or watch as your family is killed."

"I know he's not the greatest guy, but he doesn't deserve this because he fucked up somewhere along the way. He still deserves to be treated humanely." And with that, Harry turned on his heel and started to head back out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. I need some fresh air," He stated, giving them a small wave over his shoulder as he walked.

-

He didn't know what it was inside him, but sometimes, he just didn't feel like putting up with Ron and Ginny's crap. They hadn't seen how bloodied Malfoy's body was. They hadn't seen his scared eyes looking up at him the way he had. Harry knew that they would never understand like he did, and was almost thankful for it, but he still believed that Malfoy deserved better than what he was getting.

Try as hard as he could, Harry couldn't get the images out of his head. Malfoy had been starved beyond what the Dursleys had ever done to Harry, and abused worse.

Maybe that was where his sympathies were coming from. He knew what it was like to look up at someone with large eyes, begging for the punishments to stop.

Harry shuddered and stopped walking. To his right, the large windows let in the red light from the sunset that reflected off the nearby clouds and the Great Lake. He was in a hallway somewhere in the castle, which apparently had an amazing view he'd never seen before.

Despite being a distraction, it was only a brief one, and Harry found his thoughts returned after a moment or so. He'd never told Ron or Hermione or Ginny about the few times when Vernon beat him. Sure, he got a smack from those beefy hands every now and then, but that didn't bother him as much as the punches or the one time Vernon had used his belt on him. They knew that Dudley had no issues with beating him to a pulp, but it's much different when an adult did it.

He knew that there was definitely a scar on his hip where the belt broke the skin. It had faded over the years, but it was something that always bothered him. When it was really cold, it stood out like a neon light, rising ever so slightly.

Harry opened the window and rested his elbows on the frame as he looked outside. The weather was quite warm, but again, only a slight distraction.

Ginny had questioned his reasons for not wanting a more serious relationship. They'd played around a bit, but the moment Ginny moved to remove his clothes, he'd stopped her. A heavy sigh tore past his lips at that. He was still a blushing virgin because he didn't want Ginny to see the only physical proof that his uncle should be in prison.

And now, Malfoy would have those scars for the rest of his life. He was covered in them. They were a constant reminder of what Voldemort did to him. And from what Harry had seen, they weren't ever going to disappear any time soon. They were deep and magical, making them even harder to erase.

Harry pushed himself off from the window and continued to walk. They'd dealt with the cupboards in the Room of Requirement, so the castle was safe again. At first, he hadn't been too sure on how he'd return. In fact, he'd told Hermione and Ron that he never wanted to return again, but he did after Molly begged him to. They knew that it was the safest place for them to be (ironically enough), and decided that he'd stay with them for a little while longer before he could figure out where to start looking for the Horcruxes.

Those damned things just about did his head in. He didn't have a clue where to begin. It felt as if Albus had dropped him in the middle of the ocean and told him to swim without a direction. If he wasn't going to tire himself out by swimming in one direction aimlessly, then he was going to be taken down by the sharks below, or even hit by a random boat. Too many things were against him to begin with, making the first leap far too complicated.

He knew that at least two Horcruxes had been destroyed, with a possible third. The ring and the diary were definitely gone, but he wasn't too sure about the locket. Somewhere along the line, someone else had nabbed it and Harry was hoping beyond all hopes that that someone had been smart enough to finish it off. That just meant that he had four others to find.

Far too often, Harry walked around the castle thinking about these things. If the Horcruxes weren't on his mind, Ginny was. And if it wasn't Ginny, it was Voldemort and Snape. And if he wasn't thinking about those two, he was thinking about the twins in Diagon Alley, and so on, so forth. He never seemed to have happy thoughts. He was always concerned about something.

Frustration took over, causing Harry to kick at the stone wall. It was a stupid move, which was always realised after the incident.

"Fuck!" he shouted, but not because he was in pain. It was his head that was doing him in. His thoughts were depressing and just not what a normal teen should be thinking. "Oh to be fucking normal."

There was a loud crash just ahead of him, causing Harry to jolt and whip out his wand. What he saw took his breath away.

-

**Feedback? Are we happy? Would we like more or longer chapters? Please let me know. **


	3. Chapter Three: To Betray

**Erm…so I'm a little late at the weekly thing…you're gonna have to expect that from me from here on in…RL is kinda crazy at the moment. Between uni and social life and trying to get a job and boys, time is kinda lacking for me…**

**Sorry for the late chapter…**

**Dysperdis: My lecturers were always insane. I'm stupidly taking two philosophy courses this semester, so it's even nuttier than usual XD**

**LilAliLouYa: I've never come across anything like this, either. I don't even know where the idea came from, but I loved it and ran with it. Thanks. I hope I don't disappoint.**

**Victoria Humblydum: I always struggle with Ron a bit. But I did think that he would see the potion as lame, so meh... I'm glad you enjoyed it.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter three of nineteen.**

-

**Chapter Three: To Betray**

-

Very few had permission to enter Voldemort's 'study'. Whenever they changed locations, Voldemort chose a room to use as his study and stayed there most of the time. To memory, Severus could only remember five people who'd been given permission, and there were only three who didn't need the Dark Lord's presence to enter the room.

Luckily for him, Severus happened to be one of the fortunate three who could enter, even when Voldemort wasn't there.

He was made aware by Albus that there was another task that Potter had to complete before he could kill Voldemort. Albus never told him what it was, though, but Severus had a feeling it had something to do with the ring that had killed Albus' hand.

So whenever he got the chance to, he raided through Voldemort's study with the hopes of finding some clue as to what this extra task was. He knew Potter would have trouble doing it on his own and could use help from more than just his teenage friends.

Nimble hands moved over the bookshelf this time. He'd already gone through the desk in the centre of the room. Three drawers had been locked, but he knew that the locks were just a ruse. After working for the monster for so many years, Severus knew that the locks were just to tempt the foolish into thinking that that was where the good stuff was hidden. No, Severus had found greater information from random sheets of parchment left on the desk, or a bookmark that was hidden somewhere.

It hadn't taken much thought for him to decide that he was taking Draco out of the manor that night. They were in the Malfoy Manor-it was such an obvious location that Voldemort knew the Aurors wouldn't be bothered searching for him there-and Severus knew the place back to front. He knew where all the escape routes were, better than Voldemort did.

Once he found what he was after, he'd leave Voldemort's services forever. He'd take Draco back to Hogwarts before he was even awake and leave him with the Order. It was a great risk, but it was one he had to take. If Minerva or Lupin were there, he knew that they'd at least give him the chance to explain himself. Merlin forbid if Moody or any of the Weasleys spotted him first, though. They'd curse him on sight and send Draco straight to the Dementors.

So he moved as fast as he could, searching through the tomes on the bookshelf. He knew most of Lucius' texts, so he was looking for something different. Maybe something he'd seen before from previous raids. He was hopeful that he still kept a journal after he left the first one to Lucius.

His hands stopped abruptly. "Shit," he hissed out, realising that he was searching for something already in Hogwarts. "Fuck."

Severus rearranged everything so it looked like he'd never been there, going through Voldemort's possessions.

And then something caught his attention. There was one book hidden between a guide for the dark arts and a guide for healing injuries. He knew both were Lucius' (Draco was prone to injuring himself when he was younger. Severus had been called up more than once to deal with Draco's clumsiness-that had thankfully disappeared by the time he was nine), but he'd seen the red leather covering on the other book elsewhere. He'd seen it in Voldemort's previous study-he knew that for sure.

Steadily, he pulled it from the shelf and waved his wand over it, searching for any curses that might harm him or alert Voldemort to his treachery. When he found none, he opened it and found page after page of scribbles. They were just notes, with the occasional spell here and there, but it all seemed harmless. It wasn't until he got a third of the way in when he found something that caught his attention. It was a detailed recollection of the search for Salazar Slytherin's locket and then a cup Helga Hufflepuff once owned.

Realising that he had finally found something important, Severus raised his wand to the pages again and seamlessly copied the words onto a piece of parchment he conjured. He did this for the rest of the book before he replaced it and shoved the parchment into his robes.

He then turned around, facing a shelf filled with potions and began rummaging through that as if he was doing his actual job.

And it was good that he'd decided to do that at that point, because the door creaked open and Voldemort strolled in.

Severus turned and bowed lowly to his master, who didn't even change his pace when he saw him.

"Everything in order?" Voldemort asked as he slipped into the chair behind the desk.

"Yes, My Lord."

Voldemort nodded his head once before lowering his eyes to the newspaper before him. "It's about time we hurt the Ministry a little, don't you think?" He didn't wait for Severus' response. "Also, I want you to join the raid on Azkaban tomorrow night. It's nothing to worry about. We've got most of the Dementors on our side as it is."

"Of course, My Lord."

Severus watched as Voldemort tapped his wand against one of the drawers with a quick incantation. The wood slipped out of the desk easily and Voldemort reached in to grab out a small piece of rock candy. It was all meant to be intimidating, as if Voldemort suspected Severus had tried to break into the drawers, so he was watching Severus' reactions closely. When he knew that Severus hadn't tried anything at his desk, he dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

He slipped out of the office with another bow and headed towards his chambers, hoping to get a chance to plot his next step. Severus knew he had to get Draco out of the manor that night. It was his main priority, but he wasn't sure how he was going to get Draco off the table without anyone spotting him. If anyone saw what he was doing, they'd know exactly what he was up to and would do everything they could to stop him. Taking Draco away from the Dark Lord would be signing his own death sentence.

But when Severus reached the door to his chambers, he realised that something was wrong. While he'd been rifling through Voldemort's belongings, someone had gone through his. He could tell because the wards weren't the ones he'd put up when he left.

Cautiously, Severus lowered his wards and opened the door. He'd gotten to the stage in his life where he wasn't shocked by much, but to see Narcissa Malfoy on the other side of the wooden door was enough to have him pausing momentarily.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, shutting the door behind him and raising the wards again. "I don't even want to know how you got through my wards."

"We've known each other for years, Severus. I knew exactly which ones you'd choose," Narcissa said.

She wasn't looking like the graceful woman he knew. Her hair was dirty and fell limply over her shoulders. Large bags had formed under her eyes and her clothes were a mess. She looked like a woman on the run, and she'd have to be the only woman strong enough to avoid both sides of the war. It was a sight Severus knew he'd have to get used to. If everything went well that night, he'd be in the same situation.

Watching him eye her made Narcissa nervous. She ran a self-conscious hand through her hair, trying to ease out some of the knots and put it back in place. Even though she failed to make herself look more presentable, she at least brought it to Severus' attention that she wasn't comfortable with his gaze.

"I heard that the Dark Lord has punished Draco…"

"No thanks to your disappearance," Severus replied, cutting her off short. "He's being tortured because both he and Lucius failed the Dark Lord and you've fallen from his grace."

Narcissa winced slightly before her usual mask slipped back into place. "The Dark Lord would have punished me for raising him so weakly."

"So you allow Draco to take the punishment for the two of you?" He shook his head with disappointment. "Have you heard what the Dark Lord has done to him?"

"My source wasn't that detailed."

With a scowl, Severus sat her down and explained exactly what had happened over the past few days. Narcissa listened intently, not making a noise. Even after he told her about the beatings and the potion, she had nothing to say to him. He was hoping she'd say something, but she stood, instead, and headed towards the door.

"What're you doing?" he demanded, standing as well.

"I'm leaving, Severus. It's too late…"

"You can't be serious."

Severus very rarely felt his stomach drop, but he felt it fall farther than his abdomen stretched. The thought that a mother could abandon her child after begging for his life a year ago sickened him.

"What should I do then?" she asked, turning back around to face him angrily. "There's nothing I can do for him."

"You could try breaking him out of this place, Narcissa. You know the manor more than anyone else. You'd have the best chance of getting him far away from the Dark Lord."

Her face morphed into pure fear. "Oh, no." She shook he head back and forth. "I could never go against the Dark Lord like that. I'm not strong enough, Severus. He'd catch me and he'd-it'd be much worse."

"It doesn't get much worse than what he's doing to Draco."

She was still shaking her head. "No. I can't go up against him. It's best if Draco stays here…we'll both be safe if he just accepts his punishment…"

"And you'll continue to avoid yours?" He was beyond disgusted in her. "You'd commit your own son to the hands of the Dark Lord, but you'll not go to your own doom?"

"It will make Draco stronger," she tried to reason. "He won't disappoint him again."

"He's barely capable of breathing after the beatings he's received, Narcissa!" Severus shouted, feeling the urge to smack some sense into the mother. "I can't imagine Lucius would be too happy that you're allowing this to happen to his heir."

The colour drained from her face at Lucius' name. "When the Dark Lord frees Lucius, Lucius will disown Draco, no doubt. He has no need for a weak child like Draco."

Shaking with anger, Severus pointed at the door. "Go before I alert the Dark Lord of your presence." Narcissa stumbled a little, as if her knees had gone out from under her with fear. "I will give you that kindness, purely because you're Draco's mother. It is a kindness you don't deserve."

She didn't need to be told again.

With her gone, Severus sat himself down at his desk and went through the plans for the night.

-

Nagini was lying in wait when Severus entered the room. Draco was still tied up to the table and the snake looked ready to swallow him whole. It unnerved Severus as to how many Death Eaters she's actually eaten. Voldemort never once had any qualms about killing a traitor or a weakling that way. He just hissed out her permission and she'd go for it. And he got such delight watching it. It sickened Severus, who'd been forced to witness several of these horrible acts, but Voldemort truly enjoyed seeing his pet snack on his followers. One would think that Voldemort thought the Death Eaters were nothing but fodder in his war against the Muggles.

That was one of the reasons why Severus had wanted out. He knew that while Voldemort had the few Death Eaters that he truly 'cared' about, he barely knew the names of most of his followers and merely used them as meat shields. The ones with the pedigree-the Malfoys, the Blacks, the Carrows-they were his favourites and were to be by his side as he ruled the world. The rest, however, would be little more than his people. They wouldn't be servants, but they'd all work for him, like the villagers of a king. The more powerful bloodlines would be his royal family.

That didn't leave much for Severus. He'd be lucky if he got to be a free man under Voldemort's rule. As a half-blood, it was expected that he wouldn't have much in the way of freedom or a position of power.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Severus wouldn't have much of a future if he didn't pull this off. Nagini had noticed him, which wasn't a surprise, and was watching him carefully.

He didn't so much as acknowledge her and moved over to the table. Draco mumbled something softly and turned his head away. Severus reached out and gently ran a hand down the side of Draco's face.

"It'll be alright," he promised weakly before he untied Draco's wrists. They were raw from all the writing Draco was doing as he tried to escape the nightmares. His ankles were just as bad, seeping blood.

By this point, Nagini was hissing threateningly. Severus could see her approaching him and pulled his wand on her.

"Avada Kedavra."

Something that Severus didn't expect happened. As the curse hit her, it seemed to explode. The room lit up violently, with a lime green tinge to it, but the light was gone in a second. The human and the snake stared at each other for a little while, completely surprised by what had happened, before Severus' brain kicked in. He quickly spelled Draco lighter and lifted him up and over his shoulders, just as Nagini returned to her senses. She moved hastily, throwing her body forward with every curl of her muscles. Severus moved his legs faster than he had since they ran from Hogwarts. He knew that it was nearly impossible to outrun a snake, but he reached the door just in time to close it before she could bite at him.

He locked it, now trying to be quiet, and headed down the hall. There was a passage way from Draco's dorms, which were the closest to the main hall. When he heard the voices of the men on guard, he cast a quick Disillusionment Charm on the two of them before he tried to sneak past.

Severus didn't get very far. Someone had gone to answer Nagini's angry hissing and the commotion had caught the attention of the guards. They let her out and she followed the trail of Severus' scent. He didn't stop moving, though, getting through the manor as fast as he could.

It was just his luck that Voldemort had heard the hissing. There was a brief moment where Severus could hear Voldemort talking to his snake before he started to bark out orders to his men. He could hear him telling them to find him and kill him.

Every time he went through a door, he locked it behind him with a many curses and hexes he could conjure in the space of five seconds.

His aging body was starting to give in, he could feel it. But he pushed through and got his way to Draco's dorms. He was lucky that no one had foreseen his plan because the room was completely empty. With a wave of his wand, he moved the large chest of drawers to the side and found a small indentation on the wall. Severus grabbed Draco's unconscious hand and pressed it against the indentation. Instantly, the wall disappeared, revealing a tunnel that lead downwards. Waving his wand again, using wordless spells the way Albus taught him many years ago, he returned the drawers to where they once were and held his wand out towards the tunnel.

"Lumos." Light filled the tunnel, starting from the tip of Severus' wand. He moved slower now, feeling the ache in his knees and in his lungs. Who knew what the fumes from all those potions had done to his lungs?

-

There had been conversations while he was in the Order, where they discussed the secret passageways to and from Hogwarts. It was one of the few times that werewolf actually provided the Order with something useful. Severus had listened intently to Lupin's description of the castle. He knew that there was a way into the castle through the cellar at Honeyduke's in Hogsmeade. It would take him straight up to the Defence classroom, which was a perfect location in the castle.

He juggled Draco on his shoulders (which were starting to hurt, despite the spell he'd cast on him) and pushed his way out of the statue of the one-eyed witch. Staggering slightly, he tripped on the stone and Draco slipped from his shoulders, crashing onto the ground loudly.

-

Harry raised his wand the moment he registered what he was actually seeing. Snape had just come up through the passageway from Honeyduke's, with an unconscious Draco Malfoy on his shoulders. The last time he'd seen these two in person, Albus died, leaving the rest of the Order without a leader. These two were the reason why Voldemort was one step closer to winning the war.

Snape didn't seem fazed at all by Harry's presence. He instead looked down at Malfoy and checked to see if he was still alright. The boy was still breathing, but he twitched every now and then. It looked to Harry like he was a dog in a dream where he was running.

Fully knowing what the potion had done to him, Harry couldn't help but wonder what Malfoy was running from.

"You got him out of it," Harry breathed, looking up at Snape. That was when Snape's eyes rose to look at Harry.

"You knew about this?"

As Harry nodded his head, he lowered his wand slightly. "I saw what Voldemort did to him through a vision. It's the Never After potion…"

"Then you know why I brought him here." It surprised Harry when he saw how gently Snape gathered Malfoy up in his arms. Malfoy clearly didn't like being held, though, and squirmed against the Potions Master's chest. "Will the Order take him in?"

Harry brought his wand back up to aim it at Snape's chest, but froze when he saw Malfoy there. He could see the scars from the numerous curses. Some were still bleeding. His wrists and his ankles were red and scratches had formed since the last time he'd seen Malfoy through Voldemort's arms. Harry felt ill when he realised they were self-induced during Malfoy's sleep.

"And you? You're a murderer."

"And you're a stupid child, yet they allow you in on their adult business," Snape scorned and Harry suddenly didn't care that Malfoy in between his wand and Snape's chest. "All I want is for Draco to be safe. I'll be gone the moment I know I've achieved that."

Harry glared at him. "Why should we let you out of the castle?"

The older wizard rolled his eyes at Harry before he started to move closer to him. "My wand has been pocketed, Potter. I've got no weapon to attack you with. You're safe."

"Safe? You _killed Dumbledore_! I was there! I saw it all…"

"You don't know half of the story, you silly child."

There was something in his voice that made Harry feel as if he was back in class with him. It reminded him of the night Albus died, when he fought against him. Snape had the upper hand; he could have killed Harry with little more than a thought, but he didn't. He instead talked down to him about all the things he didn't know. He was defensive.

"You…" Things started to click in Harry's mind. "Which side are you on?"

"There you are, Harry…"

Both Snape and Harry snapped their heads up at Remus' voice, which trailed off when he noticed what was happening. Harry thought Remus would bring out his own wand, but the werewolf stood calmly.

"Severus," he greeted with a small nod of his head. For a moment, Harry could have sworn he saw the Death Eater's surprise, but seriously doubted it. Remus, however, was showing his own as his eyes travelled over Malfoy. "Dear Merlin, I didn't expect it to be this bad." He walked over to the two of them, standing beside Harry. Harry jumped slightly when Remus' hand grabbed his wrist and lowered his wand. "We need to get him up to Poppy."

"His wounds might be infected. The Dark Lord didn't give me a chance to heal these most recent ones. I haven't had a chance to clean them."

Remus nodded his head. "And you? Were you injured getting him out?" Again, the masked shock caught Harry by surprise. Remus must have seen it this time. "Do you honestly think I can't see what's going on here? If you've risked your life to bring Mister Malfoy out here to us, then there's more to what happened in the Astronomy Tower than what we all thought. The others mightn't see it that way, so you'll have to leave as soon as possible, but it's obvious you're not one hundred percent loyal to You-Know-Who."

Snape stepped up and handed Malfoy over to Remus. "Then you better not tell them that we spoke," he said, making up his mind. "Keep them off my trail."

"Good luck. You'll be wanted by both sides now."

With a quick nod of his head, Snape headed back to the statue, which was still open.

They watched him leave.

"You'll start catching flies, Harry," Remus said, motioning towards Harry's open mouth. He then juggled Malfoy in his arms until he was in a more comfortable position. "We should get going. Mister Malfoy needs Poppy's attention."

Harry sealed his lips and followed dumbly as Remus lead the way. "We just let Snape get away. We just let Albus Dumbledore's murderer disappear into Hogsmeade." His feet made a dull clomping noise at each step, as if he didn't have the strength to lift his feet properly. "He's on our side, isn't he?"

Remus couldn't help but smile at Harry over his shoulder. "I think he's got himself a plan."

"I hope he does." Harry shook himself out of it. "I hope he's on our side, because he's blindsided two of the most powerful wizards of all time at least one time each."

A small chuckle came from Remus' throat. "Who'd have thought that the kid you bullied in school would turn out to be the strongest player in a war?"

"That really just happened? Oh Merlin."

-

**Wow, so I promise you guys one chapter every week and give you this tiny-arse chapter after no activity for a few weeks…sorry…**

**I hope you liked it. **


	4. Chapter Four: To Deny

**Sorry this took so long to get out…RL is completely annoying and bad things are happening and I'm sick of it, (essays are to be written, films are to be filmed and new software needs to be played with) but these things have to be done, etcetera, etcetera…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Dysperdis: Yes, I'm insane for my course subjects…kill me nows…**

**Victoria H: I won't disappoint you in regards to Severus. I think he's too awesome of a character.**

**Status: Chapter four of nineteen.**

**Chapter Four: To Deny**

-

Poppy Pomfrey had never seen such injuries before in her lifetime. She'd been a Mediwitch for several years now, and had much experience under her belt, but the wounds on Draco Malfoy's body were intense. They penetrated the skin deeply, leaving him with cuts that'll forever scar and bruises a horrible shade of brown. The Malfoy heir was known for his pale, flawless skin, but now there was barely a square inch of skin without a mark of some sort.

The first thing she did was clean the grazes on his wrists and his ankles because she had to restrain him again. His nails were doing just as much damage and she didn't want that to continue. So she cleaned them and healed them before binding him down again, but with a full-body bind rather than one where he'd be able to thrash about and cause himself more pain.

Poppy then started on his chest. Her wand was moving over the blonde's torso when Minerva and several of the Order members came into the medical wing, determined to figure out what to do next. She was genuinely surprised to see Harry Potter in the group, though. However, that was unimportant. Making sure Malfoy wasn't about to bleed to death or get a nasty infection was her first priority.

"So you just found him like this?" Minerva asked of Remus, watching as Poppy worked on the boy.

"By the one-eyed witch, yes," Remus lied. "I'm guessing someone broke him out of You-Know-Who's 'care' to get him here."

"Who'd do that?"

"His mother, maybe?"

Minerva nodded her head at that. "No mother would want to see her child go through something like this."

Remus was thankful that Minerva bought the lie and looked at Harry. At first, he thought the teen was watching Poppy closely, but he realised that Harry was watching Malfoy instead.

Three large slashes seemed to be the centrepiece of Voldemort's handiwork, surrounded by smaller cuts. He was certain he could even see a deep puncture wound or two around the blonde's hips. Ugly bruises from beatings covered his collarbone, his high cheeks and his abdomen and smaller scratches were red around his stomach and his arms. The only part of his body that Remus could see that was untouched by any injury was Malfoy's left forearm, where the Dark Mark was imprinted on his skin.

Poppy's wand waved into Remus' sight and he found himself watching as she tried to heal the larger slashes. The first time she ran her wand over them, nothing happened. She tried a different spell, but that didn't work either.

"Oh dear," she muttered to herself and attempted a third spell.

"They're from the Sectumsempra Curse," Harry told her, though he hardly raised his voice. "Snape created it. I don't know how to heal it. There's a special incantation."

Poppy took in the information and got up from the chair that was placed next to Malfoy's bed. She headed over to a shelf, where she pulled out a small box. Harry nearly shivered when he saw the long needle and the medical thread. "This will have to do, then."

She sat back down and threaded the needle. As she leant down to sew Malfoy's skin back together, she paused. "This curse has been used on him before," she observed, noticing the thin scars.

Harry had to bite back the need to vomit. They were there from when he cursed him not so many months ago. Snape had been there to save him that time, but he was running for his own life now. He was on the run, having risked his position in Voldemort's ranks to help out this time.

Poppy didn't need to know, so she continued with her job and pierced Malfoy's skin with the sharp needle. The blonde whimpered slightly and tried to move away, but the bind kept him in place.

-

Whatever it was that was chewing on his chest disappeared suddenly. He didn't have a clue what it was. It had looked like a bird when it had first approached Draco, but it quickly turned into something he'd never seen before. The head stretched, it grew in size, the feathers melted off to a black tar, claws appeared where wings once were and fangs came down from what was the beak. He could remember the blood red eyes that looked at him a moment before the creature swiped at him, catching him with three claws as they passed over his chest.

Draco could remember the chase. After that first attack, he took off. He ran as far as he could, as fast as he could, determined to get away from the monster on his tail. But as his feet took his further away, the world around him got darker and darker until he was running in a field that was pitch black. Draco couldn't see a single thing, but he could hear it. The creature sounded like a hyena to Draco. It laughed with a high-pitched squeal that bounced off the walls that were suddenly around him, despite the fact that he was in a field not even two minutes ago.

He could hear it breathing. He could feel it. It was everywhere, and when it grabbed his wrists and pinned him down, he screamed, but it got caught in his throat. He fought it. He struggled against the tight grip it had him in, throwing his hands at the monster, trying to kick at it, but nothing worked. The creature breathed all over him, bathing him in its stench, before it made the first cut. Draco felt the long claw pierce him just above his hip. It was hot, burning his inner muscles as it passed through the skin, probing deeply.

He feared it would slice his insides up, but when it twisted its curled claw, all Draco could think of was the pain. It tore through him and he tried screaming again. Nothing happened.

The claw was harshly pulled out, tearing the skin further, and another incision was made closer to his ribs. It went in just as deep and he felt his head spin as the creature stabbed as his innards.

He hoped he could pass out, but before that could happen, the monster started to cut at his skin, strip by strip. Draco's entire body curled with fire as the monster skinned him. The only time the claws disappeared from his body was so the creature could raise the slip of skin up to its mouth. He could hear it slurping down the strips.

He knew he was crying. He knew there were tears running down his cheeks into his hair, but he didn't care. The monster was eating him alive and his body wouldn't even give him the blessing of passing out.

It started on his left side, carving into him. Draco could feel his own blood pouring down the side of his body and pooling in his belly button. Whenever enough to spill over collected in the small indentation, the creature would lower its head and lap it away with its tongue. The tongue was long and harsh like sandpaper. And whenever it drank his blood, it let out a happy purr before nuzzling the dampened skin.

Draco was all out of tears by the time the monster had torn away the layers of his epidermis on his left. He was certain if he could see, he'd see his muscles gleaming back at him. His mouth was dry and his throat was raw. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

When the tongue started to lick at the exposed muscles, Draco couldn't even manage a hiccup of pain. He'd given up.

And the creature apparently realised this, because it started devouring him a different way. Fear filled him when the monster leant forward and breathed on Draco's face, but then relief flooded him when he thought it would be over soon.

Instead, the monster lowered its head further and started to tear into his chest with its teeth rather than peeling the skin. His screams returned, but his voice hadn't. Silently, he arched, trying to get away from the searing pain.

It all disappeared, though, after the fangs snapped his sternum.

-

They all watched as Malfoy's eyes snapped open with a piercing scream. He sat up in a rush, cringing, whimpering in pain.

"Mister Malfoy," Poppy admonished, rushing over to his side. He was panting, holding his hands up to his chest as he tried to get his mind straight. Poppy started to check his vitals to make sure he was alright. Her hands swatted away his own pair as his fingers got caught on the buttons on his flannel pyjama shirt, and she pulled them down to hold them both in one of her hands while her other brushed away the cold sweat on his brow.

"Mister Malfoy," she repeated, softer this time as Malfoy started to slow down. He was looking around wildly, as if he was trying to find something. His eyes didn't focus on anything, though.

"The monster…the monster," he said over and over again, trying to move his hands. When he realised they were trapped, he started to wriggle harder, fighting back against being held down. "No…no!"

"Draco," Poppy tried, lifting his chin so he was looking up at her. "It was a nightmare. The monster wasn't real."

"Please, no…" He was whimpering, scared out of his mind.

"Poppy, maybe…" Minerva was cut off as Harry slipped onto the other side of the bed, grabbing Malfoy's hands in his own, and forcing the blonde teen to look at him.

"Malfoy! Wake the fuck up," he ordered, shaking him. A few disapproving chirps came from three of the four women in the room, but they were ignored. "Malfoy."

They watched as Malfoy's eyes finally focussed. Malfoy obviously started taking in the scene before him and froze.

He was sitting in a bed in the middle of the Hogwarts' medical wing, surrounded by members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"P-Potter?"

"Yeah, Malfoy, me," Harry said, now calmer than before. While he was occupied, Poppy started to run some diagnostic tests on the blonde teen. "Welcome back to the world of the conscious."

"It-it was a dream…"

"The monster?"

Malfoy nodded his head, and Harry couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable over Malfoy's vulnerability. "It was eating me."

"It was all a nightmare. You're safe now."

Someone snorted in the back of the room, kick starting Malfoy's brain.

The first sign that he was back to his normal self was the way Malfoy snapped his hands away from Harry's. He then shimmied himself up to the top of the bed, trying to get away from Poppy's prying examinations. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded to know, now in full Malfoy-swing.

"Someone brought you back from Voldemort's place," Harry informed him, standing. "You're in Hogwarts…"

"No shit. I never would have guessed." Harry cocked an eyebrow at Malfoy's attitude and watched as Malfoy batted Poppy's wand away from him. "Get away from me." He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. "So what? I'm a prisoner of war now? I'm not going to tell you anything."

"Minerva," Poppy started, looking up at the professor, "I'm not sure he should be taken to Azkaban. Not in his condition, anyway."

"I'm in perfect condition," Malfoy snapped.

"I'm sure someone enjoys being Voldemort's whipping bitch-like your father, for example-but you didn't seem to," Harry taunted, getting a violent glare from Malfoy.

"Go fuck yourself. The Dark Lord treats my family well. We're his…" Malfoy yelped sharply as Harry reached over and poked him in the side with his finger, knowing full well that he was injured there. "Motherfucker!" he hissed, curving away from Harry and protecting his side.

"Malfoy, Potter; behave," Minerva chided. "Watch your language."

Malfoy scoffed. "I'm a Death Eater. I'm not about to _watch my language_ because…" He yelped again when Harry poked him again-this time where his stitches where.

Malfoy struck back this time, corking Harry in his upper thigh, causing the brunette to swear, grab Malfoy's hand and twist his wrist back. The movement had Malfoy swirling in the bed until Remus pulled Harry off him.

"He's injured, Harry," Remus admonished, pushing Harry behind him.

"Isn't it against some law to treat prisoners with violence?" Malfoy demanded, rubbing at his wrist now. He couldn't help but feel pride, though, when he saw Harry limping slightly.

"Maybe in the Muggle world," Moody said, and that was when Malfoy realised that he was the man who'd snorted earlier. "We can treat you however we feel fit."

"But we won't torture you," Remus promised. "Some of us have seen what You-Know-Who has done to you. We understand that you're a victim in this war, just like…"

"I'm not a victim," Malfoy argued. "The Dark Lord hasn't done anything to me."

"Denying it doesn't make it so. Harry and I were the ones who found you. We know he hurt you…"

"It wasn't him, though it's none of your business."

Remus looked up at Minerva and then up at Harry. "Harry has visions, Mister Malfoy, where he sees what You-Know-Who is doing. He saw it happening. He saw how You-Know-Who forced you to drink that potion."

Malfoy turned his head away. "You're wrong."

"I saw it, Malfoy," Harry told him and Malfoy snapped his head back to shout at him.

"You're a fucking liar, Potter! You're nothing but a dirty half-breed with your filthy Mudblood mother…"

Harry could easily see the angry tears welling up in Malfoy's eyes. "Whatever makes you feel better, Malfoy," he said softly before turning his head away as a tear escape Malfoy. "What are we going to do with him, then?"

"He has valuable information, and Madam Pomfrey is right; we can't let him go to Azkaban in this state," Minerva said.

"He's a confessed Death Eater, Minerva," Moody grumbled and limped forward. "He should be in Azkaban, or in the custody of the Ministry."

Harry ignored their debate and eyed Malfoy, who was looking down at the covers. He might have hated the other boy and blamed him for Albus' death, but he couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. And here they were, arguing over his future-his fate, even.

The blonde was getting paler and paler with every argument that was made. It was clear that even though he had seemed nonchalant over his future, he was worried. Harry watched as Malfoy started to turn a slight shade of green, particularly after someone mentioned the Dementor's Kiss.

"Hey," Harry said abruptly, catching everyone's attention. He could even feel Malfoy's eyes on the back of his neck. "Surely they've never used the Kiss on someone so young. I mean, he's not even seventeen yet, so they can't trial him as an adult, right?"

"He's a proud Death Eater, Potter. You heard him saying it," Moody argued. "If we don't hand him over now, he won't ever stop."

"Do you really think he's gonna continue fighting alongside Voldemort after everything that's happened to him? He's been tortured, Moody. I saw him being beaten and cut and cursed-and now he's got that potion in him." Harry gestured to Professor Slughorn, who was off in one corner, not saying a word. "Professor, you could testify that the potion is punishment enough."

"It is too strong a punishment, Harry," Slughorn said grimly. "I wouldn't wish it upon anyone-not even You-Know-Who himself."

"I know it must seem strange that I'm sticking up for Malfoy and everything, but you didn't see what I saw. But…but maybe Malfoy might be willing to change sides. It wouldn't be the first time a proven Death Eater has been allowed freedom after switching." Harry took in a deep breath before he even attempted his next sentence. "Professor Dumbledore gave Snape a second chance."

The room quickly changed into one that was filled with angry and shocked faces. He had to stop himself from cringing when at least four of the members of the Order started to yell at him, but he knew that if he moved a millimetre, they wouldn't accept him and his argument.

So he held his chin high, accepting the criticism, but felt one-hundred percent uplifted when he saw Remus' proud face smiling softly at him. Even though Tonks was shouting at Harry, Remus was still on his side. He wasn't caring for Malfoy's reaction. It would probably be best if the Slytherin didn't say anything at that point.

Moody was the last to get off his high horse when they realised Harry wasn't changing his mind.

"Look, for all we know, it was Snape who brought Malfoy out here…"

"So he could plant a spy within the castle again?" Bill accused, having been one of the four who'd yelled at him. "Malfoy was the one who let the Death Eaters in, Harry. He's the reason for…"

He didn't have to finish his sentence. It was easy to see why Bill was so upset about the situation. His face was mangled thanks to Malfoy and Greyback.

"I didn't…" Harry cut Malfoy off as he tried to explain himself.

"Not yet. I don't think they're interested in your side of the story just yet."

Malfoy, surprisingly, nodded his head, understanding that Harry was his best chance of getting out of this alive, or with his soul.

Harry returned his attention to the room. "So none of you considered that maybe Snape killed Professor Dumbledore to keep Malfoy safe? If Professor Dumbledore had been kept alive, Malfoy wouldn't be here right now. Maybe Professor Dumbledore knew that Malfoy was given this task. Snape has always been our greatest weapon against Voldemort. He's been our eyes and our ears…maybe he put Malfoy here because Malfoy can help us."

"Help us with what, Harry?" Tonks asked from next to Remus.

"Do you know where Voldemort is?" Harry asked, turning around to look at Malfoy briefly. After a moment, Malfoy nodded his head slowly. Green eyes took in Malfoy's expressions. "Are you okay?"

Malfoy shook his head this time and covered his mouth with his hand just a moment before he leant over the side of the bed and wretched horribly, expelling what little food he had in his stomach.

Remus moved forward and settled himself next to Malfoy on the bed as he ran his hand up and down his back, encouraging him to get out what needed to be out. "It's alright."

"Don't you fucking touch me," Malfoy hissed, wiping the back of his hand across his lips and chin. "It's not alright, you freak."

The werewolf stayed still. "You're not betraying anyone."

"You…"

"Do you really wanna get the Dementor's Kiss, Malfoy?" Harry questioned from the left side of Remus. "Because that's what you're looking at right about now. Where is he?"

"It isn't possible for me to hate you any more than I already do, Potter," Malfoy informed him through his teeth.

"Yeah, well, either you side with me, or you stay true to the sick bastard that just carved you up like a turkey."

"He didn't…" Malfoy avoided eye contact and started again. "Give me time to think about it…"

"What's there to think about? You're either with us, or you're getting your soul sucked out."

"Is that a promise?"

Harry didn't even have to think. "Yes, it is."

"Potter," Moody objected angrily, "you can't make those deals."

The Gryffindor ignored him. "I promise you on my life that they won't do that to you. You'll be a free man after the war if we win, and if the Ministry doesn't like it, they can go fuck themselves."

"How am I guaranteed that?" Malfoy asked as Remus disappeared from Malfoy's side.

"I have connections."

They were silent for a moment as Malfoy thought about it. "I'm not going to become a pawn for the Order of the Phoenix or the Ministry of Magic." He paused for a moment. "What about my family?"

"Your father is a convicted Death Eater, Malfoy. He's not getting anything from us. We all know that he's killed and he's tortured. There was enough evidence at the hearing."

"My mother?"

"Your mother is MIA," Tonks said scornfully. "She's running from both sides, according to our sources. She knows that she'll be reprimanded for your failure, but she'll also be locked away. Your mother has less of a spine than you do."

Harry caught Remus giving her a disapproving look now that he was back next to her. Malfoy looked up and glared at her before he turned the fiery look at Harry. "If I do this, it's with you. Not with _them_. I'd be siding with you. I'm not a pawn for the Ministry of Magic or the Order of the Phoenix."

"You'll be my pawn?" There was something about that sentence that entertained Harry, but the entertainment died down when Malfoy's eyes burned harder. "Okay, I get it and I'm okay with that."

Malfoy nodded his head a few times, but he looked like he was going to be ill again. All the fire disappeared from him as he prepared himself for his next statement and he took several deep breaths. "They're at the Malfoy Manor."

Harry's jaw dropped at the simplicity of it. "Seriously? I reckon the bad guys just love making the good guys feel like dicks."

A small smirk made its way to Malfoy's face, and that did something to make Harry's stomach feel better. The mere fact that Malfoy was good enough to smirk at Harry told him that the (ex? Harry wasn't too sure…) Death Eater was feeling better already.

"So, Harry, what do you plan to do now?" Remus asked of Harry, smiling lightly. "Will you be helping us plan our attack, or would you rather stay here with your new-found friend?"

And that had both the teens objecting rather harshly. "Friend? _Friend_? You've got to be kidding me," Malfoy snapped with disgust. "Potter is anything but my _friend_."

"I'd never befriend someone as pig-headed as Malfoy. He's a prat and I hate him with everything I have," Harry claimed and Minerva shushed the two of them. Then something clicked with Harry. He looked down at where Malfoy was sitting. "Are you alright with them attacking Voldemort?"

Malfoy shrugged his shoulders. "My parents aren't there with him, so…" He let out a deep breath. "What's going to happen to me now?"

It was Minerva who answered. "As you're now 'working' for Potter, I want you to stay in the Gryffindor Tower until the students return."

Again, they objected as one.

"What?"

"No!"

"Once he's been cleared by Madam Pomfrey, I want him to move in there."

Malfoy scoffed. "_Moving in_ implies I have belongings to take with me."

Expectant eyes turned to Harry.

"I am not sharing my stuff with him."

-

Only Malfoy and Poppy stayed behind in the medical wing when everyone else left. The Aurors and the Order decided on meeting elsewhere to discuss their next move, and Harry was promptly dismissed again.

"Molly, I gave him the choice," Remus started to object when the mother started to usher the teen away.

"This is something you'll understand when you're a parent, Remus," Molly told him, steering Harry by the shoulders. "Sometimes, children aren't meant to be around adult conversations."

"I think Harry's enough of an adult to be here with us."

"He just convinced Minerva to keep a known Death Eater in the castle around the other children," Moody pointed out, "I don't think that's a very mature decision."

"Malfoy's not gonna harm anyone," Harry snapped in Moody's direction. "He doesn't have a wand and his body isn't up to anything physical. You saw what Voldemort did to him. He's a git, but he's not suicidal. His life and his safety are the most important things to him. Hell, he'd sell out his own parents, and pretty much just did."

Harry found himself on the receiving end of one of Remus' disapproving looks again.

"Either way, I don't want him around these plans," Molly said with a tone of finality in her voice.

"I agree," said Tonks. "If Harry can see that much in You-Know-Who's head, who's to say the favour isn't being returned? The last thing we need is our plans leaked through Harry's head."

And unfortunately for Harry, Tonks had a reasonable point. He was useless at Occlumency and couldn't block Voldemort from his mind to save his life (literally in some cases).

"Fine, okay," Harry grumbled and willingly stepped away from the group, which was now heading towards Albus' old office. "I guess I'll go tell the others that we're having a guest."

"Harry," Minerva said, turning to face her student. "You better hope that he's more than just a guest. If he turns his back on us, it'll be on your head. Everyone else was willing to leave him to the Aurors."

"Minerva, I, too, was on Mister Malfoy's side," Remus objected, standing up next to Harry.

"You can't stand there and tell us how mature he is without letting him take the responsibility," Minerva chided Remus. "He either takes liability for his actions, or he's considered a child within the Order of the Phoenix."

"I'll take responsibility for whatever Malfoy does," Harry boldly claimed. "He said he'll only follow me, so everything he does will be on my head."

The adults around him seemed pleased with his decision.

-

Harry sighed heavily when he got into the common room. He had three pairs of eyes turn to him suddenly, and he was forced to remember why he left in the first place. They hadn't seen each other since he'd left the rooms earlier, before he found Snape and Malfoy.

With one hand shoved in a pocket and the other up in his hair, messing it up, Harry sighed again and walked over to where they were all sitting.

"I'm so sorry for the next forty-eight hours."

-

**Reviews would make me very happy XD**


	5. Chapter Five: To Heal

**Again! Ah jeepers, I'm so sorry. Other projects popped up (sorry to spam inboxes with NCIS: LA fics instead of HP goodness) and I couldn't get them out of my head. And then we have the problem of my real life being so massively busy. Uni right now is all about getting in essay after essay; video after video and it's driving us all to insanity…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Rin89: No mpreg, I'm sorry. I can't justify it this time around. **

**Alexandra the Great: I've planned for nineteen chapters. There's a lot more writing for me to do (not sure if this is a happy or an unhappy…)**

**Andrea: I will just about always include Severus/Remus relationships in my fics. They're just as amazing as Harry and Draco. **

**Again, I'm sorry for the delay. Please feel free to reread the previous chapters XD**

**Status: Chapter five of nineteen.**

**Chapter Five: To Heal**

They stared at him for a while, not quite comprehending what was going on. Harry's apology seemed so completely random that they each went through all the reasons for him to be apologising about. Other than the small fight with Ron and Ginny, they couldn't think of anything.

"What are you talking about, mate?" Ron asked, finally.

"I kinda…I got us stuck in a really strange situation," Harry said, shuffling over to the chairs. He sat down and lowered his head into his hands.

"Yeah? How strange?"

Harry took a deep breath before he began to even think about starting. Siding with Malfoy when talking about saving him from Voldemort was one thing, but saving him from the Aurors…they'd never understand. And, damn, they were gonna be so pissed when they found out Malfoy was to be their guests within Gryffindor.

"Okay, well…" For some strange reason, Harry's mouth figured it would be best to delay the inevitable wave of anger. "Just…you can't tell anyone about this first bit, okay? If the professors and the Aurors and your parents found out, Remus and I would be in a shit load of trouble."

Eyebrows rose.

"Harry," Ron started, shifting closer to his friend. "You know that no matter what you choose, we still love you like family, right?"

This time, it was Harry who was confused. "What?"

"Well…it just sounds like you and Moony…"

Harry thought over his words again and just about smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. Of all the stupid thoughts Ron could have had. "You're a dick," Harry told him outright. "That's not what's going on."

Ron's back shot up. "Err, right. Of course not."

For a few moments, Harry continued to blink stupidly at Ron. "There are too…so many reasons why that's wrong. And since when did you start thinking I'm gay? When did you start thinking Remus is? And _he_'s so old and I'm so young…he's one of my dad's closest friends, Ron…"

"Okay, I get it. There's nothing going on between you and Moony."

"Right, well, anyway, on my walk, I happened to run into Snape…"

"Snape's in the castle?" Ron exploded, standing and whipping out his wand as if the ex-professor was in the room with them at that moment.

"He _was_, but…"

"He got away?" Ginny asked. She was sitting on the edge of her seat, clearly uneasy with the idea that Snape could be in and out of the castle so easily.

"The thing is…well, Snape had Malfoy and Malfoy's a wreck..."

"So Malfoy's here now?" Hermione asked with a soft tone. Harry was thankful for it since no one else had bothered to speak to him rather than yell at him.

"Yeah. It's worse than I thought, Hermione. He's covered in cuts and bruises. Voldemort beat the crap out of him…"

"You're saying Snape dropped off Malfoy and got to leave?" Ron growled out. "Harry, they're the bad guys!"

"You didn't hear Snape talk," Harry objected. "Remus and I think he's on our side."

"He's a tricky bastard," Ginny said. "He's fooled us all before."

"I know that, but he risked so much just to get Malfoy here. He'll be wanted by both sides of the war. Isn't that enough?"

"Maybe it just means that he actually has a soul and wanted to get Malfoy somewhere else."

Harry shook his head, but Ron intervened. "Not even three days ago, you were ranting about how much you hated Snape and Malfoy and what they've done to all of us. Now you're willing to ignore all of it because of some strange theory? It doesn't sound too good, Harry. You think that all this is happening because he's being nice to Malfoy? He's always been nice to Malfoy. I wouldn't be surprised if he was invited to the git's birthday parties."

"The things he said…"

"What about everything he's ever said to the Order? He fucked us all, Harry! Just because he won you and Remus over with a few words doesn't mean that he's genuine."

"Dumbledore would give him a chance. He did give him a chance."

"And look at where that got him. He's dead-killed by Snape's own hand."

Harry shook his head again, but didn't say anything more on the subject of Snape. He knew he'd lose, no matter what he said. They fell silent and he let Ron have his win for the moment. "Okay, well, that's not all. We're not handing Malfoy over."

"Harry," Ginny started to object, but she was soon overridden by Ron's booming voice.

"That monster should be in Azkaban! He endangered everyone!"

"He's in no condition to be anywhere but in bed, Ron," Harry objected swiftly.

"He deserves it."

This time, Harry stood and walked around to the back of the couch, feeling the need to separate himself from Ron. "We've had this conversation before, Ron."

"Yeah, alright, so maybe he doesn't deserve to be insane, but he certainly deserves getting his soul sucked out. He's a Death Eater and he's done more damage to the Order than anyone else has."

Harry scoffed. "I'm certain Voldemort's done worse."

"You know what I'm talking about."

It took all of Harry's willpower not to roll his eyes. Bill's attack seemed to be the driving point of every Weasley at the moment and Harry was getting sick of it. Yes, Bill was savaged by Greyback, but other than his scars, he was perfectly alright. It wasn't as if he was a werewolf now. He barely got grumpy on the night of a full moon.

They were bitter over Albus' death, but it was secondary to Bill's attack.

"Okay, so how about I try explaining things without any interruptions?" Harry offered, taking a few deep breaths. Ron and Ginny glared at him for that comment.

"That sounds good, Harry," Hermione said, but she was looking at the two Weasleys.

"Right, well, the Order and I decided that we weren't gonna give up Malfoy to the Aurors. He's too damaged for that now and Voldemort's done a good enough job at punishing him for his crimes. So we're keeping him here…" He paused and held up a hand when Ron started to object. "He's sworn his allegiance to me and me alone, Ron. He decided he'd rather be tied to me than in Azkaban with his soul sucked out and he's already told us where Voldemort is." Harry noticed Hermione's questioning look. "He doesn't want anything to do with the Aurors or the Order, so he's sworn himself to me. Voldemort did enough to him for him to turn his back on him. The only thing Malfoy was worried about was his parents." Harry took in a deep breath and prepared himself for the next explosion. Hermione was likely to join in this one. "So the strange part is this…Malfoy's gonna be staying here in Gryffindor Tower until the students show up…"

"_Harry_!"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

"That was…unexpected."

"What you need to realise is that Malfoy doesn't have his wand," Harry said loudly to silence Ron's rant. Hermione whipped out her own wand and put a silencing charm on the redhead, which had Harry instantly wondering why he hadn't thought of something like that. "Thanks, Hermione."

"If he doesn't have his wand, then he's harmless," Hermione figured with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I agree. I mean, he and I've been in a fair few fist fights before and I know he managed to kick my arse sometimes, but he's really not all that dangerous if we've got our wands. And I doubt he'll try anything. It's three against one and we're all suspicious of him as it is."

"You're an idiot," Ginny accused angrily. "You're putting all of us at risk because he's a tortured puppy?"

"When are you going to be at risk, Ginny?"

"He's a _Death Eater_, Harry."

"He's an unarmed Death Eater that's now changed sides. We've taken away the cupboards, so he can't bring the others into the castle again, and we're not gonna let him communicate with anyone outside the castle, anyway. You can put all the wards up around you that you want when you sleep, but I doubt he'll do anything."

"We don't want him here."

"It doesn't matter. Professor McGonagall told me that he has to stay here," Harry said, making it final. Not even Ron was going to say anything against McGonagall's word, which was why Hermione took the spell off him. "He'll probably be moving in tomorrow night."

"Great, just what we need," Ron hissed out before he stood and headed up to his room.

Malfoy looked down at the paper in his hands and scowled up at Minerva. "The Daily Prophet?" he asked. "It's not going to keep me entertained for the whole night. And most of it's garbage from the Ministry, telling the public that everything's okay. It's a waste of ink."

"Would you like me to leave you with nothing to read then?" Grey eyes narrowed dangerously when the professor tried to take it away from him.

"It'll do for now."

For a moment, Minerva could only stare at him as he read over the headlines on the first page. Nothing seemed to catch his attention. There was something about an attack in who-knows-where, but apparently that was all under control, and some celebrity was doing something controversial, but it was all what the Ministry wanted the Prophet to publish.

"How are you feeling?" Minerva asked when she saw him wince as he turned to the second page. Again, Malfoy glared at her.

"Peachy, just like every other prisoner of war feels."

"You're not a prisoner if you've changed sides, Mister Malfoy."

He scoffed, looked away and shook his head. "I won't be allowed out by my own, will I? I'll be forced to stay here until the war is over."

"And where would you go?"

There was something in her voice that he hated. It was the pity that everyone but Moody seemed to feel for him. They were all convinced that his life was so horrible now…

Just thinking about the potion and its affects brought back the memory of the monster that was eating him alive. He shivered and refused to make eye contact with her. "I'd manage."

Minerva looked like she was about to say something more when Poppy returned to the room. After checking Malfoy over with her wand, she sighed heavily.

"I'd like to see how your stitches are holding up," she announced and reached to undo the buttons on Malfoy's shirt. He indignantly smacked her hand away and held the edges together tightly. His thumb accidentally slipped inside and scratched against the gauze that was covering his massive injuries.

"They're fine."

"The bandages will need changing."

"I'm sure that can be done magically."

With a sigh, Poppy shook her head. "Mister Malfoy, I've already seen the damage..." She stopped when she saw all the haughtiness that he was so famous for disappear suddenly. "I only want to help you."

He looked away, but his hand fell down as if he'd lost the will to keep it up. Carefully, Poppy unbuttoned Malfoy's shirt, stopping when it reached his lap. There was enough room for her to work in. With steady hands, she gently removed the gauze that was taped to Malfoy's pale skin and held back her instant reaction to the sight before her.

Never before, in all her years as a Mediwitch, had Poppy Pomfrey seen such incisions. They were deep and sharp, and she knew the attacker was proud of himself for marking the boy as such. She cleaned the cuts along the seams with a cotton ball, picking up what little liquids had seeped through the stitching. It seemed to be holding in place, despite the physical confrontation from before. Then she did the same to the smaller cuts that were healing slowly with magic.

Everything would heal with time.

Tears burned behind her eyes when she thought of the other malady Malfoy suffered from. There was nothing she could do about the nightmares and the sure insanity he'd be facing in just a few hours. She's never seen anyone under the influence of the Never After, but she'd heard enough to know that the morning would be hard for the both of them.

When she looked back up at his face, Poppy realised that Malfoy was glaring at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He didn't say anything, though, and let her button his clothes back up without any objections.

Poppy headed off to grab a few potions, and when she turned back to face him, she found him nose-deep in the paper, reading over whatever garbage it was that the Ministry was feeding the public.

"I want you to take these, Mister Malfoy," she said, trying to sound as commanding as she normally was with her patients, but finding her voice lacked its usual bite. Poppy pushed that to the back of her mind and handed him over two different potions. "I'll call up a house-elf and we'll get you fed afterwards."

Malfoy just nodded his head and gulped down the presented potions as if they were nothing. The vials were handed back and his eyes rose to look at Minerva. "I'm guessing there'll be Aurors watching me all the time."

It took a while, but she nodded her head. "It's a precaution. You can understand how we're not too happy about the situation."

"I'm harmless," Malfoy said with a weak voice.

Both Minerva and Poppy seemed shocked at the statement, but neither said anything about it. Instead, Minerva turned away and left the room with only her shoes clacking on the flooring to make a sound.

Poppy cleared her throat and looked down at him. "I'll be off to bed now, but if you need anything, feel free to wake me." When she didn't get any response from him, she headed to the corner where her office was. Just like many of the professors at Hogwarts, Poppy had her own living quarters behind her office.

She paused for a moment and faced him. "I'll keep the candles lit for you." With that, she disappeared.

He'd been thankful that she didn't give him the choice. It would be a massive blow to his pride to ask her to keep them lit rather than let him sit in the dark-not that it was very dark at all. The light from the moon filled the room thanks to the missing curtains.

Logically, Draco knew and understood that he'd suffered a nightmare thanks to the potion, but he also knew that he didn't want to be left in the dark. The monster might have been in his head, but the creature that scarred him was real and he wasn't safe from him. He'd never be safe from Voldemort. Even when-_if_-Potter killed him, Draco knew that his former lord would be there every time he looked down and saw the deep marks on his skin.

Draco shuddered and put the paper in his hands aside. Suddenly, he didn't feel like reading those lies. There had been enough of them for the night. Each time they tried to tell him that the Dark Lord was bad, he denied it, much like he'd denied his conscience whenever he's made progress in his plans. He'd been lying to himself since he was old enough to realise his father and Voldemort were insane. And now, he was lying to the only people who could make him feel human again. Potter was giving him a chance now and he was going to take it. As far as he knew, his parents were nowhere near the heart of the battle, so giving over the information wouldn't hurt anyone important to him.

Draco sighed deeply and sunk down. He needed to find someone else to be important. The rule said he needed a kiss from his one true love to break the spell.

A scoff tore from his throat. True love was laughable to a Malfoy. He'd known that love didn't play a part in Malfoy marriage. He was already betrothed to Pansy Parkinson, and, although he had no interest in her whatsoever, she had already picked out the dress and had tried to seduce him several times. A different sort of shudder ran through him at that thought. With the knowledge that he was to wed Parkinson, he'd tried as hard as he could to love her, but soon discovered that you couldn't choose who you loved. You couldn't force it to happen, despite your greatest intentions and efforts.

He hadn't been given any time to think about what it all meant for him. He was aware that the potion was to do horrible things to him and that it was permanent until he and his true love shared their first kiss.

His hand shot up to his lips suddenly as he realised that there could be a problem. Just because he'd never loved before didn't mean that he'd never kissed anyone before.

"Dear Merlin," Draco breathed as he thought it over. His lips had touched the lips of four girls in his life time. He's already had his first kiss several years ago.

Draco's stomach tossed at the sudden realisation that the dreams would never end if the potion was that picky over 'true love's first kiss'. He'd heard of the potion before and he knew that it relied on the first kiss. He never once thought that it would be used against him, so he never looked into it. It was insane to think you'd have to withhold your first kiss just in case you would one day be subjected to the damned potion.

For a moment, Draco just wanted to curl up and cry. He wanted to be back in his own bed, a year before, when he wasn't a Death Eater who'd brought a small army into Hogwarts. He wanted to reverse time and make it so he wasn't a disappointment to the Dark Lord so he'd have no reason whatsoever to hurt him. Despite knowing that it was never going to happen, Draco shifted himself so he was lying on his side and curled into the pillow. It was nothing like the pillows on his bed back at the manor, but it'd do. When he stopped moving, the tears spilled over and he had to cover his mouth to stop the sobs from waking Madam Pomfrey.

Nicholas Dunn was a newly appointed Auror and a new recruit within the Order. Standing guard over the young Malfoy boy was his first task set to him by the Order, so he took it happily. He hadn't expected it to be so boring though.

Yawning, Nicholas brought out his wand and cast a quick tempus charm, just to see what the time was. The numbers shimmered before him, telling him that it was exactly six-forty-eight in the morning. The sun would be rising soon, which meant that Malfoy would be put to sleep by the potion.

He'd never heard of such a potion before in his life, and he'd never expected Voldemort-though, he doubted he'd ever be able to speak that name-to mess up one of his own this way.

Nicholas yawned again and took a step back so he could lean against the wall. He was standing in the hallway, where he'd let Kingsley-the _real man in the flesh!_-Shacklebolt off guard duty.

It shocked him just how many heroes he'd found in the Order. He'd heard rumours that most of the top-ranked Aurors had sided with Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter, but he hadn't believed most of what they'd said. But no, the likes of Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks were there, and Tonks had even spoken to him! He'd seen Harry earlier in the meeting-in which he didn't say anything thanks to the overwhelming sense of awe that had him gripped tightly-and was just blown away by the humanity of the boy. He'd wanted to help…

Nicholas' thoughts broke off quickly when he heard a loud thump come from the room. Without thinking, the young Irishman burst into the room to find Malfoy on the ground by the window.

"Oh crap," he grumbled and ran over to where the teen was unconscious and quickly checked his vital signs. His pulse was fine, he was breathing and he seemed to be without any new injuries (he'd been informed on the Malfoy's health earlier). If anything, he had a slight bump on the back of his head, where he must have hit it when he fell.

Nicholas rolled Malfoy over and realised with a small smile that the blonde was sleeping. With a shake of his head, Nicholas straightened to see that the sun was steadily rising over the horizon. He bent back down and picked Malfoy up to return him to the bed.

When he looked up from Malfoy, he saw that Poppy had been roused from her sleep by the noise. "I think he was standing by the window when the sun began to rise," he said softly, as if speaking any louder would wake him. They both knew that there was nothing that they could do to wake Malfoy, though.

"Stupid child," Poppy admonished half-heartedly. It was then that Malfoy started to whimper slightly in his sleep. He shifted in the bed, clearly unhappy with where he was in his dream. "Here comes the nightmare."

Draco had never actually seen a dead body before he returned to the manor with Severus. He'd never wanted to see one and he wasn't prepared to see one. Death wasn't something he took easily. The death of a pet had the potential to destroy him, so when he did finally see a dead body for the first time, he slipped into a state of shock.

The first time was when he was thrown into the dungeons. They were taking the body out as they pushed him in. He'd even brushed it with his shoulder when he lost his balance. The moment Voldemort and Wormtail were gone, Draco had vomited everywhere. The following morning, when Voldemort had seen what a mess Draco had made, he'd kicked him into it, upsetting Draco's stomach further.

Sitting in that dungeon, Draco had seen two men die. They'd been tortured for information. One was an Auror, who went through with his vow of dying before they got any information from him. The other was a squib, who was hiding the location of a handful of squibs, who'd run away from England to escape Voldemort's wrath. He'd told them everything after the second day and was rewarded by being gutted in front of the group he'd betrayed. The stench was unlike anything Draco had ever smelt before.

But that didn't compare to what he could smell now. He was dreaming-he knew that for sure. It was impossible that he'd be there, going through this.

He was sitting on top of a pile of cadavers. They were everywhere, filling the pit he was trapped in. As he tried to find an exit, Draco stood shakily; mentally apologising to the bodies as he felt and heard them crunch under his feet, while running his hands over the dark walls. A light shone down on him, telling him that there was a way out if he could get high enough. It had to be at least four metres above his head.

The light disappeared for a moment, and Draco looked up just in time for the body to land on top of him. His body gave way under the weight of the other man, who he shoved off him in a rush of adrenaline, and he backed right up so that he was pinned against the farthest wall.

Draco started to hyperventilate and he covered his mouth with his hand, until he realised that he'd made contact with the dead with that hand. It came away quickly and he brushed it against his pants, trying to get the feel off his skin.

He looked back up, looking for the exit, only to find that the walls had climbed at least another metre higher.

"No," he whimpered and stood back up, turning so he could try to climb up the wall. His nails dug into the concrete with no effect. "Let me out!"

What he heard, instead, was the cruel laughter of the Dark Lord, and when he squinted hard enough, he could clearly see a form at the edge of the top of the wall.

Draco watched as Voldemort grabbed someone and held him at the edge. Something happened as the other man struggled against the stronger wizard, a choked gasp came from him, and before Draco knew it, it was raining. The liquid fell on his face and he had to look away to prevent it from falling into his eyes. It was a warm, sticky rain unlike any rain Draco had ever experienced before, but before he could figure out what was going on, Voldemort had dropped the man into the pit with him. Draco stepped aside to avoid him, but when he landed, Draco saw that his throat had been slit.

With shaking hands, Draco wiped away some of the rain from his face and looked down at his hands to see what the rain had been.

He just about screamed when his hands came back red and bloody.

"No…no, no, no, no…"

**Please review. I do so love them. **


	6. Chapter Six: To be Rejected

**Oh my freaking god; I'm so sorry this has taken so long. RL has been on my case non-stop these past few weeks (months…) and it's really annoying. So I've made this a super long chapter of ten pages to hopefully apologise for my lack of updates…**

**AlineDaryen: Once upon a time, I used to update weekly…I'm so sorry (and angry at myself) I've slipped off the rails with my updates…thanks for your review. **

**Hopeful Forgotten: Very rarely am I told to torture Draco more. I'm glad someone actually appreciates the hell I put him through. And the fact that other authors can't wait to throw them in bed together? I hate it. That's why I always make them go slowly. Thanks.**

**hizeme-neko: Nopes. The kiss has nothing to do with that. XD**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter six of fifteen.**

**

* * *

****Chapter Six: To be Rejected**

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry looked up when he heard Ginny say his name. He was sitting in the kitchens, eating the breakfast the Dobby set up just for him. However, remembering what was said the night before, he was finding that not even Dobby's magnificent pancakes could take away the sudden bitter taste in his mouth.

"What is it?"

Ginny stepped forward and took a seat next to him at the massive table, avoiding all the house-elves that were running around. "I want to apologise for last night. The way Ron and I reacted was wrong. Malfoy…he's not going to hurt any of us, and I know that. I spoke with Tonks and she said that Malfoy doesn't even have his wand…"

"I told you that, too," Harry pointed out with a grumble. He reached out for more syrup, if only to have something to do.

"I just needed extra reassurance, that's all. It's hard to believe that any of this is happening. Malfoy's You-Know-Who's most loyal, but he'd do this to him? It's insane…"

"So am I, apparently."

He was being spiteful, but it didn't bother him. Harry figured he deserved to be this cold with her, at least for another few hours.

"I was shocked, Harry. After what Malfoy did to Bill, it's a little hard to accept that he'll be so close to us."

"Malfoy didn't do that to Bill. Greyback did."

Ginny nodded her head dutifully, but reached out to grab Harry's hand when he started t play with his cutlery without actually eating anything.

"I know that you're upset with how we reacted, but please don't do this. It feels like you're choosing him over us, when all he's ever done is hurt you. We've loved you for so long, Harry. You're our family."

"I know," Harry said, looking down at where their hands were joined. "But it felt like you didn't trust me at all, Ginny. Malfoy's been to hell and back and it isn't going to get any better. He's sided with us and needs all the help he can get. I was just about to finish up here and check on him…"

"Harry, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Ginny interrupted suddenly, turning to face Harry completely. Something sunk in Harry's stomach as his body realised what she was going to suggest before his brain caught up. "I think we should start dating again."

"Ginny…"

"Just listen, please," she pleaded, causing Harry to stop. "With everything that's happening to Malfoy and Bill and Fleur, it makes me realise that we really should be together. Malfoy's hurting because he's never been in love before, and Bill and Fleur are getting married in just a few weeks. It just seems like everything around us is about love and breaking up with me because of the war seems…unimportant."

"The last I checked, Ginny, the war is more than important," Harry said as he retracted his hand from hers. "I don't want you to be a target because Voldemort's after me. If he's willing to do this to Malfoy, imagine what he'd do to you."

"I'm stronger than I look, and you know that."

"Voldemort killed my parents, who were both fully fledged Aurors to get to me. This isn't something that you can take so lightly. It's too dangerous."

Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry's words as if he was being too dramatic. "I'm willing to take the risk."

"Maybe I'm not."

Her eyes widened slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe I don't want to be with someone who's willing to be so stupid in the middle of a war. I don't want anyone else to die, and I'd rather stay focused than risk it. And besides, we're not going to spend much time together once school starts back up. You'll be studying and I'll be training and…" He stopped when he saw her shaking her head.

"Hogwarts is a thing of the past for me. I'll be here with you, fighting by your side."

"Your parents would never let you do that…they were against Ron dropping out."

"It's not up to them," Ginny argued. "It's my future."

Harry scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure you'll argue with your mother on that one. She'll tear you a new one." He looked at her, giving her the most severe look he had. "Look, it's best that you get your education. You're still only fifteen, Ginny. The fewer children that get dragged into this war, the better…"

"I'm not getting dragged along."

And that had Harry standing. "That makes it worse. I'd do anything to not have a role to play in any of this, but I'm being forced into it. I don't have a choice, but you do, and I'd much prefer it if you didn't jump in and volunteer yourself to your own death. I can't be with someone who'd give away their life like that."

"I'd choose being with you over living, Harry," Ginny tried, standing up, too. "That's how much I love you."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This isn't going to happen. We're not getting back together. Not until Voldemort is long gone."

Having said his final word, Harry turned and left the kitchen, not caring that Ginny was gaping behind him. It took her only a few seconds to catch up with him, though, completely outraged.

"You don't want to be with me because I'll be in danger? I'm prepared to risk it, Harry," she pleaded, but to no effect.

"I'm not."

* * *

The first thing Ginny did after Harry rejected her was head to Minerva to talk to her about permanently staying even though she was dropping out.

It made no sense to her that Ron and Hermione were allowed to do whatever they wanted when it came up to Harry's business. They all knew about the prophecy and they knew that it was Harry's destiny to kill Voldemort. But they also understood that he'd need help, and while she hadn't been told about the Horcruxes, she knew that Albus had left Harry one last order and she wanted to help. And from that, she figured she should be allowed to join in. The more help Harry had on his side, the better his chances were at defeating Voldemort.

But everyone around her argued that she was too young. It was like they completely ignored the fact that the three of them stopped Voldemort from getting the Philosopher's Stone back when they were eleven. Fifteen wasn't too young. She was several times stronger than Harry was when he was eleven.

So when she knocked on Minerva's door, she stood with a proud smile, believing that Minerva wouldn't say no to her after she put forward her argument.

"Come in," Minerva said from the other side of the door and Ginny pushed it open. Minerva was sitting behind her desk, going through some paperwork that probably involved the school. "Miss Weasley; take a seat."

Ginny did just that. "Good morning, Professor." Minerva returned the greeting, but didn't look up at her until she was finished signing one final document. When she had given Ginny her attention, Ginny continued. "I want to stop my education in favour of helping out Harry."

The older witch didn't look surprised. In fact, she sighed as if she'd been waiting for this conversation for a few weeks. "Your mother and I have already had this conversation, and we've both decided that this is a bad idea."

"I guessed as much, but you made that decision without talking to me about it."

"And what would you have said?"

"I would have said that Harry needs all the help he can get and that I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

Minerva nodded her head, taking in Ginny's argument. "So you don't believe that the Order and the Aurors are enough support for Mister Potter? You believe that you have something to add that no one else has? You're an average student, Miss Weasley. You have virtually no experience in life or in battle. And you're far too young to be in the Order…"

"Harry and Ron were going headfirst into more dangerous situations when they were eleven and twelve."

"They didn't know what they were getting themselves in to. The fact that you're consciously making this decision, believing that you're old enough and using the past of Mister Potter and your brother, shows that you're too immature. They, along with Miss Granger, were thrown into this life without their consent. That you're searching it out is worrisome."

"I just want to help."

"You'll be helping out more by staying safe, Miss Weasley. Your parents are worried enough about your brothers. I'd hate for them to have you in danger as well. And as for your request, if you wish to leave Hogwarts and your education, I'll approve as long as your parents do…"

"I don't want to leave Hogwarts. I want to stay here with Harry and Ron and Hermione…"

Minerva shook her head. "I cannot allow that. Only staff, professors and Order members are allowed to stay here if they're not enrolled as students. And as you aren't any of the above, you can't stay at Hogwarts."

Ginny's mouth dropped open as she tried to think of a new tactic. "Malfoy's…"

"Mister Malfoy has nowhere else to go. If anything, he's a prisoner of war for now." Ginny moved to say more, but a knocking on the door stopped her. Minerva eyed the young Weasley. "That's my final decision."

With a roll of her eyes, Ginny stormed out of the room, very nearly colliding with Poppy, who was on the other side of it.

* * *

Harry hadn't been one to watch other people sleep, but when he sat down on the chair next to Malfoy's bed, he didn't feel out of place at all. The blonde boy was moaning, thrashing, muttering 'no' under his breath, clearly against whatever it was that was scaring him so much. For a moment, Harry wondered if he looked like that when he was having one of his visions.

He reached out and brushed his fingers through Malfoy's hair, whispering to him about how it was alright, despite what the monster was doing to him. It was alright, because he'd wake in a few hours, and the monster would be gone.

It seemed like the right thing to do, even though Harry wasn't completely sure if the dream was caused by the monster or not. For all he knew, Malfoy was having a nightmare over something else that night. All Harry knew was that whatever he was doing, it was the right thing. Malfoy's whimpering got softer and he stopped moving so much.

"It'll all be okay," Harry promised softly, not sure why he was doing it. Malfoy was his enemy. He hated his peer just about more than he's ever hated anyone, and yet he wanted to help him out.

"He's been like this since the sun rose," Poppy said, coming up behind Harry. "I imagine it'll always be like this."

"It'll be like this until we manage to break the spell."

"And how do you expect to find Mister Malfoy's one true love for him?"

Harry had wanted to scoff at that one as his instant though was to set him up with Ginny. It would keep her off his back. And it'd keep her safe, as well.

When her question wasn't answered, Poppy took a different route. "He'll be well enough to be transferred when he wakes up in a few hours." And with that, she turned and returned to her office.

Malfoy confused Harry. He always had and he always would, as far as Harry was concerned. Even though Malfoy had been tortured by Voldemort, he didn't want to admit it and he had now sworn his allegiance to Harry. It was odd that such a purist would do something like that. The last thing Lucius Malfoy would want of his son would be to see him bowing to a half-blood like Harry. And Malfoy's always done as his father wanted him to do.

So it confused Harry to no ends that Malfoy was so willing to go against his father's word and side with him. Then again, the blonde was all about his own survival, so it shouldn't have come as such a shock. But then Harry factored in Malfoy's pride and realised that that should have created a problem for the Slytherin. It started to do Harry's head in, but essentially, he realised that Malfoy was more about self-preservation than pride.

The thought of having to find a true love for Malfoy hurt Harry's head. It was more than unlikely that Harry would find himself in a relationship and now he had to go out and help Malfoy with his own? The fates really hated Harry more than any other being.

His hand kept moving, kept smoothing down Malfoy's silk-like hair, as he thought about the situation they'd now found themselves in. Malfoy wasn't exactly a wanted member in his life, but he vouched for him and now had no option but to help him out.

He knew he had to find something out on this potion, but he doubted he'd be able to find anything in the regular library. It wasn't likely that they'd allow the students to read about these horrible potions designed to make a person's life a living hell. They might have something in the Restricted Section, but he highly doubted Hermione wasn't already there. Minerva had given the bushy-haired Gryffindor full access to the Restricted Section for research on the Horcruxes.

No one else knew about them. Harry had made sure of that. It was better that way, despite how much easier life would be if others knew.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear Slughorn enter the medical wing. The aged (and he was looking it more and more each day, as if the worries of the war were aging him on their own) professor cleared his throat, gaining Harry's attention.

Harry turned in his chair slightly to face the man, who was standing just off to his right shoulder. He was holding a book to his stomach. "I don't know what you and Miss Granger will be able to find in the Restricted Section, so I thought to lend you this, Harry," he said, offering the book with one hand. "It's all I have on the potion. I can't find anything in it to help Mister Malfoy, but you are the Wonder Boy. Who knows what you'll find?"

Harry suppressed a groan at the faith Slughorn had in him. That and the nickname he used. But he accepted the book nonetheless. Anything would help at that point.

* * *

Remus was enjoying what he could of the warm weather. It seemed to be the only thing working for them at the moment.

Sitting alone, on the grass in front of the Great Lake, Remus couldn't help but think about the past few days. Truth was, he had no intention of ever marrying Tonks. He'd never intended on impregnating her, either, but…

When she'd told him that she was pregnant, he didn't know what to do. Remus had felt his entire body grow cold at the thought of having a child. He didn't know if it would be infected like him, or if it'd be a human baby. Reproduction was rarely something werewolves did because they feared what would happen to the child. And even if they were born normal-_human_-they'd still be at risk. All Remus had to do to ruin the child's life was forget the potion just once.

He wasn't entirely sure why he'd even slept with Tonks. Maybe it was because she'd approached him when he was at his worst. After losing Sirius, he'd been in a terrible state. The loss of his best friend was more damaging the second time around. He'd needed comfort and she'd freely given it to him.

Of course, this information would never get to Harry. It wasn't something he was proud of. Using Tonks like that wasn't something he would ever be proud of. And now they were engaged and preparing for a child.

The child wasn't created from love. Their marriage will never leave him feeling warm and fuzzy. It wasn't what he had envisioned for himself the few times he dared to have thoughts about marriage. In fact, it was disturbing.

Remus groaned aloud and slipped down to lie on his back. The clouds played in front of him, floating and hiding the sun on occasion. The sun was beautiful and warm and it made him happy. If the sky was still clear like this, Voldemort still had a fair way to go before returning to his former strength.

Back when Voldemort was at his strongest, the world was much darker. It was like the sun went down at four and he moon was always hidden behind the clouds. Winter came much sooner each year. All hope seemed futile. Here, though, Voldemort lacked power for now.

It would be nice to raise a child away from the hell of Voldemort. He'd love to provide that for his little family.

His thoughts were cut short. As he was watching the clouds pass, an owl swooped down from the sky and perched itself on his chest. Remus jumped a little, caught off guard by the brazen bird, but quickly took the roll of parchment from the bird's leg. He read it over before he incinerated it on the spot. The owl blinked for a moment before it took off into the sky again, apparently content with the answer.

A groan came from Remus' throat and he ran a hand down his face before he forced himself back up. The day wasn't as calm and as relaxing as he had thought it could have been.

Fortunately, though, that meant that it became more interesting.

* * *

Harry hadn't moved from Malfoy's side and Malfoy hadn't stopped squirming. Each time Harry stopped petting the blonde, he started thrashing around, clearly needing someone to tell him that it was alright. But he sat next to Malfoy's bed, reading the thick book Slughorn had lent him. Harry wasn't one for heavy-duty research, but he wanted to know more about this potion.

When Remus finally found him in the medical wing, he wasn't all that surprised. It was the book that confused him at first, but when Harry confided that it was all Slughorn had on the potion, Remus changed his mind.

"Is it useful? Have you found any loopholes?"

Harry looked up at Remus and reached out without a thought for Malfoy. His hand landed on Malfoy's shoulder and the Slytherin calmed slightly.

"It's a lot of nothing," Harry admitted, flicking through past pages. "I never thought someone could write so many pages about the effects a potion can have on a victim. I now know what's going on with Malfoy's body and why he's having the nightmares, but it doesn't say why it's a kiss and why it has to be from their true love."

"So you don't know how to cure him?"

"I don't have a clue. It seems like there's nothing we can do until we learn why the cure's a kiss."

Remus moved a little closer, watching how Harry was tending to Malfoy's well-being. "You seem to know how to calm him down, though."

"It seems like his nightmares get better when he knows that someone else is here. Monsters are easier to face when someone has your back."

"You'd know," Remus commented. Harry smiled a little at that, but lifted his hand up to Malfoy's fringe when he started to whimper. His fingers tangled in the short strands before he smoothed it down. Malfoy tilted his head into the sensation and settled.

"I can't even think of how the potion would know that it's true love, anyway. It's not like he'll be awake for it. He can't exactly know that it's someone who he loves who's kissing him. If he doesn't know, how can the potion?"

"The potion isn't a separate entity, Harry."

Harry raised his other hand up into his own hair, fluffing it out of frustration. "The book makes it sound like it is. It gets in and knows what you're scared of. If Malfoy ever falls in love, it'll know who with. It knows when the sun rises and when it falls. All of this is insane."

"Almost sounds like the wolf," Remus mused. "I can feel it inside me. I wonder if Mister Malfoy will have the same feelings inside him."

Harry sighed and lowered his hand from his head. He quickly marked where he was in the book before closing it. "He's got a few more hours…you can ask him then."

Remus watched as Harry looked at Malfoy. There was something about the way Harry was so interested in this case that grabbed at Remus' attention. He'd rarely seen such a fascinated enemy and it reminded him of when he was younger. Even though his issues with Severus were infamous, he had to admit to himself that he was a little bit fascinated with the Slytherin back when they were in school. Honestly, it hadn't really changed and he knew that maybe Harry was a little unprepared. If his obsession with this Slytherin went the same way that Remus' had, it wasn't going to end well. His brief obsession with Severus left them both unhappy at the end of school. He mightn't have said anything to other boy, but he acted like a boy over these feelings and had hurt Severus.

The situation with Harry was much different. While they were enemies (through nature, it seemed), Severus had never been under the influence of a potion. He wasn't doomed around love like Malfoy was.

"Remus?"

Harry's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. The younger Gryffindor was looking up at him as if something was wrong.

"Sorry; I blanked for a moment there. Got a bit lost in my thoughts. You were saying?"

"I was wondering about Snape."

And that brought Remus to the reason why he was looking for Harry in the first place. "Severus, yes. That reminds me. He owled me just before. He wants us-he specifically asked for you to be there-to meet him in the Shrieking Shack at midnight tonight."

For the briefest of moments, Harry looked like he'd say no because Malfoy would be awake then. But then he apparently realised the urgency of the meeting and nodded his head once. "I suggest we go under the Cloak, first, just to make sure it isn't a trap filled with Death Eaters."

"Sounds reasonable, but I think Severus might be a good guy in this one."

"I hope he is. There's nothing more dangerous than a guy who can fool everyone so many times."

"And he's going to keep fooling us until he dies. You know that, right?" Remus said with a small smile.

"I'm also hoping he has a legitimate reason for killing Professor Dumbledore."

"I feel like he has. When we talked to him last night, it just seemed to fit."

Harry agreed, nodding his head, before he turned his attention back to Malfoy. "When he wakes up, I'll have to show him around Gryffindor. I think I made myself more hated than he is."

Remus smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. "How long have you been here for? Maybe you should go talk to them."

"I've been here since Professor McGonagall told Ginny she wasn't allowed to stay and join the Order."

An eyebrow rose at Harry's words. "I bet Ginny wasn't too happy with that."

Harry laughed a little. "Yeah."

* * *

After Harry realised that he'd spent most of the day with Malfoy, he left the medical wing. He trekked down to the Great Hall where he found Ron and Hermione sitting at the Gryffindor table, eating dinner. His instant reaction was to check the time, just to make sure Malfoy would still be sleeping. He wanted to be there when Malfoy woke up. It was something stupid, but he wanted to be there still.

Even though they weren't there as students, they were still treated to the joys of the house-elves and their amazing cooking.

"Hey guys," he greeted as he slotted himself opposite them. One glance from Ron told him that they knew that that Harry had turned down Ginny. "Look…"

"As long as you're breaking her heart, she's safe. It's the best thing for her at the moment," Ron told him before Harry could start to apologise. "Mum and Dad think the same and now they're tearing through her after McGonagall told them what she did."

"So you're fine with me not getting back with her?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders. "It's better for her. But after all this is done, and there's still something there, you have to make it up to her."

With that, Harry started to pile his plate up. He hadn't realised that he'd missed lunch somewhere along the way.

"Where've you been?" Hermione asked, watching him studiously. For some strange reason, Harry suddenly felt like a text book.

"I've been studying, actually."

Hermione's eyebrows rose and Ron even choked on his mashed spuds. "For real?" Ron asked when his wind pipe was clear of any potatoes. "We're not going back to school, mate."

"Slughorn lent me the only book he has on Malfoy's…on his situation. I got so into it that I didn't even realise that it was getting so late."

Hermione continued to just gaze at him. "So you've been in the library?"

"I was in the medical wing with Malfoy."

And the anger from the previous conversation came boiling up again.

"You've been spending the entire day with him?" Ron hissed, now ignoring his food. It was one of the major signs that screamed his unhappiness. Nothing but his rage got between him and his food.

"He's been sleeping, Ron. It's not like we're actually doing anything friendly…"

"How is he?" Hermione questioned, putting a calming hand on Ron's forearm.

Harry messed up his hair again. "The nightmares seem really intense. He just keeps tossing and turning like something's chasing him or hurting him…the potion is designed to tap in to what he's most afraid of and turn it on him. For all we know, he's facing Voldemort right now in his mind."

"Did the book give you any idea on how to help him?"

Harry shook his head. "It's an intelligent potion. Remus thinks it could be like the wolf inside him, in fact. It'll somehow know if the kiss is coming from his 'one true love' or not. And there's no way to simply flush it out of his system. Once it's in there, it's in his blood and it keep reproducing like a cancer. It's not like we can put him on a dialysis or something."

For a moment, Ron gave Hermione a questioning look. He didn't have a clue what that was, but Hermione ignored him. "It's like a separate entity…"

"That's what we're thinking. How else could it know so much about what's going on around him? It knows exactly when the sun comes up and goes down."

"I still don't see why you're helping him out like this," Ron grumbled. "He's a git and doesn't deserve you being this nice to him."

"He doesn't deserve insanity, either," Harry argued again. "I know how hard it is to have nightmares and his are supposed to be worse than mine."

Realising (not for the first time) how useless it was to argue with Harry about these things, Ron returned to his meal. They'd agree to disagree on this one.

"So you'll be taking him to Gryffindor Tower tonight?" Hermione asked before resuming her meal.

"When he wakes up, yeah." Harry sat back and reached for his food. He considered telling them about Snape, but decided against it. After the outbursts that had happened last night, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know about this one. He couldn't even begin to imagine how upset they'd get over him meeting with Snape.

So he kept it to himself and fell into the conversation naturally.

* * *

Harry was back in the medical wing once they'd finished with dinner. Both Hermione and Ron were done long before he was but they stuck around to keep him company. It was nice like that.

Poppy was there, waiting for Malfoy to wake up. They still had another few minutes before sundown and another few hours before Harry and Remus were to get to the Shrieking Shack.

Malfoy was restrained now. His wrists were strapped down to his sides but Harry could see where he'd scratched himself while he was gone. His hair was an absolute mess from where he'd been throwing his head from side to side and tears had started to fall down his cheeks.

"How is he?" Harry asked, moving around the bed to sit on the edge of it.

"I've taken care of his injuries from You-Know-Who. He should be fine to leave. The nightmare, though…that's starting to worry me. It's gotten worse over these last few minutes. He's been muttering and thrashing."

Harry placed his hand on Malfoy's shoulder and rubbed it gently. Malfoy's upper body stilled slightly and his face fell against the pillow, facing Harry. Shushing him, Harry stretched over Malfoy and wiped away at the tears. Malfoy whimpered but his breathing started to even out.

With a sigh, Harry looked out the window. It was nearly time for Malfoy to wake up. He imagined it would be similar to how Malfoy woke the day before. The blonde would be in shock for a few moments before realising he was awake.

It nearly shocked him how he could be so gentle with someone who'd caused him so much torment in the past. Nevertheless, Harry smoothed down Malfoy's hair once he'd wiped away all the tears. He was especially responsive to having his hair played with. It soothed him apparently.

The book from Slughorn was sitting on the bedside table, right where Harry had left it. He'd have to bring it with him and lend it to Malfoy. It didn't have much information in it that they could use, but it would be nice for the Slytherin to have a slight clue about what was going on within him.

A louder whimper caught Harry's attention and he looked at Malfoy's face. Malfoy's eyes were blinking up at him, filling with tears; his breathing became rapid and he started to strain against his restraints.

"Malfoy…Malfoy, hey," Harry breathed and instantly moved to untie the blonde. The moment his hand was free, Malfoy brought it up to wipe at his face, muttering about something being there. He was becoming more and more frantic, feeling his tears.

Harry reached down and pulled him up into a sitting position. Malfoy didn't fight him, but he smacked his hands away when Harry tried to grab at Malfoy's wrists.

"Shhh, Malfoy…"

"Blood…so much blood," Malfoy hissed out, still moving his hands over his face.

"There's no blood," Harry told him softly, scooting closer to Malfoy. "I don't see any blood."

Malfoy was shaking horribly, so Harry just wrapped his arms around him and held him close to his chest. He grabbed Malfoy's wrists in one hand and held them away from his face and rocked him gently until Malfoy was sobbing at his shoulder.

When he'd finally calmed down, Harry slipped back so he could look at his peer. "Are you okay now?"

Malfoy ducked his head down, obviously unhappy with himself. He didn't answer, but was looking down at his hands.

"There's no blood."

"Fuck off." He shrugged out of Harry's embrace and threw his legs over the edge of the bed.

"Malfoy…"

Poppy intervened now. "Mister Malfoy, you'll find that your wounds have been healed. So you won't have to stay here in the medical wing anymore. You're free to go where you want."

Harry saw Malfoy's eyes flicker up at the door, where an Order member was standing on guard. "I'm as free as they get."

"And whose fault is that?" Harry grumbled, but was silenced by Malfoy's dagger-eyes.

"You're supposed to show me to my new room today-_tonight _. I'd like to get that over and done with as soon as possible," Malfoy said sternly.

"Okay."

"And has anyone fetched clothes for me? I refuse to wear hospital-grade pyjamas for the rest of my life."

"The house-elves should have grabbed them from your dorm, Malfoy. You did run out of here without a single thing," Harry replied, losing the sympathetic tone he'd had with Malfoy. Malfoy harrumphed at this but said nothing. "Come on, then."

"You expect me to go out there with no shoes on? It's a castle, Potter. It's cold and all that."

Now Harry knew Malfoy was deliberately pissing him off. Rolling his eyes at Malfoy's defensive attitude, he folded his arms over his chest and glared at the slightly taller man. "Just get up. I have more important things to deal with. Your bullshit isn't that high of a priority."

His glare was returned, but Malfoy got moving.

* * *

Harry was beginning to wonder if bitching was one of Malfoy's default systems. If all else failed, he fell back on what he could do the best, which appeared was bitching Harry's ears off. His feet were cold; his throat was dry; the scratches on his arms itched like crazy; there were too many stairs and he did _not_ want to live with a git with a hero complex, the ranga-blood-traitors and a Mudblood.

The last insult to Hermione was the final straw, so Harry turned to the Death Eater abruptly, grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the closest wall.

"I won't put up with your crap, Malfoy. You say a single thing to or about Hermione and I'll hex you so hard you'll go crawling back to Voldemort. Understood?"

Malfoy looked away but not before Harry could see the tiny glimmer in his eyes that had Harry changing his mind. Malfoy wasn't resorting to default; he was being defensive. He was taking his pain out of Harry and his friends.

Harry shoved him harder, deciding then and there that he wasn't playing at Malfoy's pity-party.

"If you expect any of us to cop your woe-is-me attitude, you've got another thing coming. We all know that you got yourself into this shit. You made those choices. We all believe you don't deserve this punishment, but a stint in Azkaban does come to mind."

Malfoy didn't fight back. He let Harry shove him one last time, his head turned to the side.

Harry let him go and continued on his way. With determination, Harry refused to look back at Malfoy. He wasn't going to show that he felt bad for the git. It wasn't long before he heard Malfoy's feet on the marble floor, indicating that he was following him.

The rest of the trip was done in silence. It was the Fat Lady who broke this when she spotted them. As it wasn't yet time for school, passwords weren't necessary, but she still had to approve who was allowed in.

"Harry, and Draco Malfoy too. I was told to let you in from now on, dear," she beamed down at Malfoy, who glared in return. She gave a flustered giggle and looked at Harry. "I can see why your friends are so upset. He's a regular Prince Charming."

Harry scoffed. "No, that's who he needs to look out for," he deadpanned and felt Malfoy's angry eyes on the back of his head.

"I'm no poof," Malfoy hissed out. "Let me in already."

With a hug, the Fat Lady swung aside, opening the Gryffindor common room to Malfoy for the first time.

Harry could feel the disgust coming off Malfoy in waves. Like someone had thrown dung under his nose, Malfoy instinctually turned it up at the sight before him. Harry had been in the Slytherin common room once and he knew how different the two Houses were. The Slytherin common room was filled with elegant furniture. The colours were dark and easy on the eyes. It was cold and uninviting. The Gryffindor common room was its exact opposite. It was warm with its red and gold and comfy chairs. Even the fire seemed wilder than the one Harry had seen in the dungeons.

Worse yet, there were three pairs of eyes staring at him, wishing he wasn't there.

"I'm in hell," Malfoy groaned and turned back to leave.

Harry whipped his hand out and grabbed Malfoy's sleeve to tug him back in next to him. "You've got nowhere else to go."

"I'm sure there's a closet somewhere that's better than this."

Harry shot him an icy glance before looking at Ron. "Have the house-elves set up a room for him?"

"One came up to me and told me they'd put him in twenty-eight," Ron said, not even bothering to take his eyes off Malfoy.

"Okay, well…" Harry left the rest of the comment off and pulled on Malfoy's sleeve to direct him.

Malfoy went with him willingly, though shrugged his hand off him. They passed Hermione and the two Weasleys and headed to the stairs that lead them to the boys' rooms. When they got to the staircase, Malfoy paused and looked at the ascending steps.

"What?"

"Slytherin rooms are under the common room."

Harry shook his head and encouraged Malfoy up the stairs. "Maybe you'll be able to see them again."

The blonde scoffed but Harry hoped his positive stance helped Malfoy. With a sigh, Malfoy started to move and follow Harry. Room twenty-eight was on the second floor. Malfoy turned his nose again when they went past Harry and Ron's room. It was on the right and it was an absolute mess. He'd never seen such an untidy room in his life. Maybe it was because his home was always spotless thanks to the house-elves, but Malfoy just couldn't understand how someone could live like that.

"Yeah, umm, we've been a little busy," Harry muttered, feeling a little ashamed thanks to the look on Malfoy's face.

"And the house-elves just avoid your room? How terrible is it?"

Harry found himself laughing at Malfoy's question, even though it was meant as a defensive dig. "Hermione has an issue with using unpaid house-elves."

A thin blonde eyebrow rose at the comment. "Unpaid house-elves? I've never heard anything so ridiculous before in my life."

The laughter disappeared from Harry. "I warned you about…"

"I wasn't saying anything against her," Malfoy argued. "Lower creatures like house-elves aren't meant to be paid."

"Lower creatures? You're amazingly horrible."

Malfoy just shrugged his shoulders and continued to follow Harry down the hall. The room was at the very end of the corridor. Harry opened the door and let him walk in first. Malfoy's disgusted expression returned when he saw the red curtains and drapes.

"Kill me now," Malfoy grumbled, padding toward the bed. The room was smaller than the one Harry and Ron shared. It was one of the few single rooms that weren't used by the students anymore. Harry had heard somewhere that they were used for family members of the Head of House, or for werewolves after Remus' time. It had the basics and nothing more. There was the same four-poster bed Harry had, a closet, a chest of drawers and a desk. Everything was warm and comfortable and so different to what Malfoy was used to.

Harry watched Malfoy as he moved around the room. He looked completely out of place in the middle of such a warmly coloured room. It made him look much more pale and sickly than usual. Red and gold certainly weren't the colours of a Malfoy.

Harry wasn't blind. He needed glasses, but he wasn't blind. It was no secret that many believed that Malfoy was attractive and Harry also thought that. But he wasn't looking as amazing as he used to. He'd clearly lost weight since his time at Hogwarts and his skin was nearly translucent.

It was then and there that Harry decided he was going to ask Dobby to get the green and silver decorations from Slytherin.

"Well, you've at least got your own clothes now," Harry responded, pointing to the chest of drawers in the corner.

"Be still my beating heart. I get my own clothes."

"That's more than what you'd get in Azkaban."

The look Malfoy shot him was a dirty one. But he went to the closet and grabbed out a set of robes. He then turned around to Harry expectantly.

"I doubt you'd know, but there are showers in this place, aren't there?"

Harry resisted that ever-familiar urge to smack Malfoy and instead stepped out of the room. "Follow me, princess."

* * *

"I shouldn't have vouched for him. I should have let them take him off to Azkaban and suck his soul out. He's a nightmare."

Remus couldn't help but smile at Harry's rant. Ten minutes had passed since they arrived at the Shrieking Shack, and Harry had spent maybe six minutes ranting about Malfoy.

"And Ron and Ginny aren't helping at all. They're ready to kick him out. I never knew anyone could be so annoying. It's like he's living now just to pick on us. You know, he laughed at Ron's towels? _Towels_, for Merlin's sake. I know they're tatty and have small holes in them, but they're just towels."

Remus nearly chuckled when he checked his watch and saw it pass to the seventh minute. "So you and Mister Malfoy aren't getting along, eh?"

Harry sent him a dry look. "He's a git and a prat and he's spoilt. How can anyone be like that and still claim to be human? I mean, do you know what he said about house-elves?"

"Lower creatures. You've said it a few times now."

Harry huffed and folded his arms over his chest like a child. "He just…he pisses me off so much…"

"I never would have guessed, Harry."

They both paused as Remus' wand lit up in Remus' hand. Once they'd gotten inside the Shack, Remus had put up wards to let them know when someone was near. It was a sign that someone had gotten onto the property. Harry threw his Cloak over himself and waited.

Remus moved over to the window and looked out. There was only one figure out in the front yard, and that person was moving quickly to the front door. When he was certain Snape wasn't being followed, Remus moved on to the next window, just to see if anyone else was around.

They listened (with a sense of relief) to the one pair of feet as Snape travelled through the Shack. When Snape finally pushed the door to the room open, they pointed their wands at him, but he stood with his hands up, showing his surrender.

"My wand is in the left pocket of my robes," he said calmly. Remus approached him and removed it, pocketing it in his own clothes.

"And you're alone?"

"More than ever."

Remus accepted this and nodded his head in Harry's direction. Taking it as a sign, Harry removed the Cloak and stood with the two men.

"How's Draco?" Snape asked, lowering his hands.

"He's managing," Remus told him. "What did you want to talk about?"

Snape's hands slipped into his pockets and he brought out several sheets of parchment rolled together. "I wanted to pass this on to Potter. I know Albus left you with a task and I think this has something to do with it." Rather than hand it straight to Harry, the Potions Master gave it to Remus. Remus waved his wand over it, checking for spells. "I've read over them and made my own copy. If it's what I think it is, you'll be needing help with it."

When Remus was happy it wasn't hexed, Remus passed it on to Harry. Harry quickly glanced over a few of the pages. "Is this Voldemort's diary?"

"The updated version," Snape confirmed. "It has something to do with the ring Albus found…the cursed one that was killing him."

Harry's eyes snapped up at his former professor and paled. "Do you know what Voldemort did to the ring?"

Snape exhaled loudly, as if Harry's question was the last thing he wanted to hear. "Albus left you with that on your shoulders? He's truly not as brilliant as most think." At Harry's glare, he rolled his eyes. "This isn't a task for a child, Potter. He should have told me."

"Yeah, because he could trust you…"

"Again, you don't know a thing."

"Maybe if people stopped talking to me like I'm a child, I'd know."

"You _are_ a child."

Harry scoffed and turned away from the man. He aggravated him more than Malfoy did.

"He might still be a child, Severus, but he's been given adult duties. It's about time we started to treat him like one," Remus said softly.

"Albus didn't know what he was doing when he did this to him. He was sick."

"It sounds like Harry has a lot to do, but you're against it?"

"I'll do it for him."

Angry, Harry snapped at Snape. "I've already taken care of one."

"Unwittingly so. From what I read, we have five more to find and destroy."

"We're on our way to finding a third."

Snape's eyes widened for just a moment. "We? You've told your friends about this?" His black eyes jumped to Remus. "What do you know?"

"Absolutely nothing. Harry hasn't said a word to me about any of this," Remus admitted, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Harry gave him a guilty glance, but Remus didn't seem put off by this at all. If anything, he seemed proud that Harry was following his orders.

"But you've told your little friends? It would have been easier if you'd told Lupin."

"Is that a compliment, Severus?" Remus grinned tauntingly but was ignored.

"I'm following Professor Dumbledore's orders," Harry said. "I'm loyal to the side I chose."

"As am I," Snape responded, glaring at Harry. "I, too, have followed Albus' orders to the letter."

Harry felt his entire body grow hot at the insinuation. "You killed him!"

"I was told to."

"That makes no sense."

Remus shook his head, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "There are some things that we're too inexperienced to understand, Harry. Neither of us knows what it's like to be either Severus or Albus." Remus looked up at Snape. "You said Albus was sick?"

The look on Snape's face briefly said that he was glad someone _finally_ got the point. It was just a flash, but Remus saw it. "The ring was cursed. When he tried to destroy it, he was hexed and it was slowly killing him. He'd told me about it early and we decided then that if Draco managed his task, it would be I who would kill him."

"You saved Mister Malfoy, your position with the Death Eaters and gave Albus a mercy killing."

"Yes."

Harry eyed the taller wizard. "But that meant that you knew that he was planning to let the Death Eaters in."

"His mother approached me when he was first told. We forged an Unforgivable Vow stating that I had to protect Draco at all costs. If not, I'd have died and you'd have lost all ties to the Death Eaters and Voldemort."

"It's not like it mattered. Malfoy was still tortured."

Snape's eyes hardened. "I'm aware. Though, I suppose he's making you well aware of it, as well."

"He's a right little prick about it," Harry grumbled and Remus caught a small smirk on Snape's lips. "It's got him all defensive. Everything he says is an insult just to cover up the fact that he feels so shitty. He has severe issues. He was picking on Ron's towels. _Towels_!"

Snape looked at Remus, who was grinning from ear to ear, while Harry grumbled on about Malfoy's behaviour. "And this is the child who's going to save our world? Merlin help us," Snape breathed.

* * *

**Comments? Feedback? Guesses at what's to come?**


	7. Chapter Seven: To Learn

**Sorry it's taken so long, but I was determined to get everything out in the one go for some strange and unknown reason...and then the power pack for my laptop died so I have to use my sisters laptop and it's tiny and I can't touch type on something so impossibly small so now I'm writing slower than ever and grrrrrg... **

**bookworm19065: I never let Harry and Draco get into it too quickly. They've hated each other for much too long to suddenly get over it and start dating.**

**hizeme-neko: Believe it or not, I'm actually cynophobic-I'm deathly terrified of dogs, so when you say you'll send the dogs after me, it's...I...there's a slight unhappiness that comes with such a threat... Anyways, I've always been worried about keeping Draco in character, so I'm glad you think I've managed it this time.**

**SwahiliHamster: I wanted to have Harry as the comforting type this time, rather than the arsehole I generally put him as. And I figured it would be more in-character for him to whinge about Draco. **

**Oh! And guess what? It's my twenty-first birthday this Sunday. I has a happy XD**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine. **

**Status: Chapter seven of nineteen.**

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Chapter Seven: To Learn

* * *

They agreed to keep the meeting with Snape as a secret. No one needed to know that they'd gone to meet the betrayer of the light side in the middle of the night and managed to get Voldemort's entire personal diary out of it. Knowing the Order members the way Harry did, he knew they'd take it away from him and make sure he never saw it again. And then they'd send him out of missions based on the findings from the diary as if they'd been the clever ones.

It wasn't as if he was sceptic of the Order. He thought they were doing an amazing job. Unfortunately, they were also amazing at keeping things from him and using him. It wasn't something he'd always seen. Only just recently, he'd realised that they were keeping him in the dark about many things. He was always too young to know about the dangerous things, but never too young to be thrown head-first into a terrible situation. Sure, Harry was excellent at getting himself in trouble on his own. His 'hero complex' had him dashing in head-first without the Order's orders.

And if those weren't good enough reasons, he and Remus knew that they'd never approve of them seeing Snape. They'd still doubt his loyalty. Harry didn't doubt it anymore. He was certain Snape was on their side

So they decided to not tell anyone.

By the time he got back to the dorm, he paused. At the end of the hall, he could see the flickering candlelight from under the closed door. Malfoy was awake and had locked himself in his room by the looks of things. Harry was half tempted to see what he was doing, but decided against it. He instead walked over to his own closed door and hoped he wouldn't wake Ron with his return.

As always, Ron's snores continued as Harry got to his bed and stripped off. In his boxers and tee shirt, he slipped into his bed. Searching for his pyjamas would have required light and you could only tempt Ron's sleeping abilities so much.

* * *

Draco had made a decision, and it wasn't a few complicated one. He was to stay in his room as much as he possibly could, even if the décor damaged his eyes (it wasn't an exaggeration-he was certain it was possible with this amount of tacky colours). It was better than the mess that was down the hall or downstairs.

The room was so different to what he was used to. Back in Slytherin, Draco shared a room with Blaise Zabini and that was it. The dorms were made for comfort, not for socialising, so rather than stuffing the large rooms with several beds, like he'd seen of Gryffindor, they had two queen sized beds each. Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought of forever sleeping in a lumpy single bed. It was degrading.

He'd never moved home before, so his dorm room in Slytherin and his bedroom in the Malfoy Manor were the only bedrooms he'd ever known. This was something he never thought would happen to him.

Draco ran a hand through his hair without thinking about how badly he was messing it up. It didn't bother him. There was no need for him to be bothered about his shabby looks. For once in his life, he didn't have to impress anyone. He didn't have to appear perfect. So his hair wasn't perfectly in place and his robes weren't done up to Malfoy standards and he just didn't care anymore.

Everything was so different now. For the past few months, Draco was trying to cope with the changed conditions in his life. He had to live with the fact that his master was an abusive bastard that treated him like crap. His father was in Azkaban, where he was to stay for the rest of his life. His mother had completely disappeared after his failure was made known within the ranks. Everything was falling apart.

And now…now he had to deal with the nightmares. Logically, he knew he was dreaming. Logically, he was well aware that there was no monster ready to eat him alive.

It was putting him on edge. All the insults he was dishing out were just to cover how upset he was. And he had a feeling Potter knew that. The way Potter looked at him after they spoke showed him that Potter pitied him and that just served to piss him off. Insults followed, making him feel a little better, but it was just a horrible circle and Draco didn't want to see those Gryffindors ever again. What with their perfect happiness and families and ability to live out in the real world-it was all too much and he knew that they could sleep peacefully at night knowing that nothing was coming to get them. He was also certain that at least two of the horrible Gryffindor creatures were laughing at him, too.

Draco hated everything and everyone.

Potter was no exception, especially when he walked to his room that night. Draco very nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the other teen's feet clonking onto the landing (later, Draco would realise that 'clonking' is virtually impossible in Harry's warn sneakers-he refused to accept that he was so high-strung listening for the monster that a mouse sneezing would have had him pissing himself).

The only thing that made him feel better had been the hot shower. Gryffindor Tower was much warmer than the dungeons making the bathroom more comfortable. He'd never admit it to any of the Golden Children, but it felt like the best shower he'd had in years. The heat and the pressure were amazing, especially when he compared it to his previous showering methods. When Severus was unable to perform a cleaning charm on him, the only bathwater he was privileged to was Greyback's old, cold bathwater thrown over him. So stepping under the hot spray felt like he'd died and was in heaven. It had given him a chance to scrub away at the filth covering his body and the blood he'd been drenched in.

Again, logically, he knew that there was no blood there. When he looked at his hands, they were pale and shaking, but they had no real blood on them. The water was clear when it ran down the drain and when he'd looked in the mirror, his face was free from it. But he could still _feel_ it there. Draco could remember clearly what it felt like to have the thick, hot liquid trickling over his forehead and into his eyes. Just the same, he knew what it would be like to have a creature eat you alive.

He must have spent half an hour showering. Potter had given him permission to use his shampoo (which Draco had made a scene out of-Potter's shampoo was generic and smelt like the manufacturer threw in an entire garden into it without any subtlety) and he must have used half the stuff (as he had pointed out, it could hardly be pronounced shampoo) to get his hair resembling something decent. Of course, Draco gave Potter hell over the shampoo because he could. After three minutes of insulting Potter's toiletries, Draco moved on to something much better.

The Weasel's towels.

Oh, he had had a good snicker over those things. They were patchy and worn and the red that would have been there generations ago had faded to a murky orange. And he didn't doubt that they had been passed on over the generations. Despite his insults, he could see the Weasley coat of arms with an elegant W embroidered in the corner and knew that they came from when the Weasleys were of greater money.

Potter hadn't been impressed with him at all. He'd pushed him towards the closest shower stall and left. The alone time was something Draco was getting used to. Once upon a time, he'd hated the idea of being alone. Now, he savoured it. When he was alone, the Dark Lord wasn't there to hurt him anymore. The only problem with him being alone, though, was that he had time to look at himself in the mirror.

At first, he wasn't too sure if the face looking back at him was even his. At first, he thought it was just the mirror teasing him the way they sometimes did. But on further inspection, he could see that it was his own face. The Gryffindor mirrors weren't lying to him and he did actually look that bloody awful.

His once-adored sharp features were enhanced by his weight loss, making his eyes drown in his cheekbones. Draco's skin was several shades paler than what it used to be, except for where his eyes were blackened. Dark circles-the darkest shade to have _ever_ graced his face-were present under his eyes. Small abrasions showed where the Dark Lord had struck him the other night and he had a few bruises here and there. His platinum hair was dirty and disgusting. Dried dirt appeared to have assimilated with his skin and he knew he'd have to scrub at that for hours before he'd feel clean again. Draco was half-tempted to call up a house-elf to get them to check for any exfoliate or something. Merlin only knew what was happening to his skin.

When he was done gasping over the state his face was in, he started to remove his clothing. The pyjama top came off easily enough and his mouth had literally dropped when he saw the damage to his torso. Thin scars covered his chest. Once, he'd look down and only see three clean lines. Now they crossed over and ran along each other to the point that Draco couldn't figure out which were the original scars and how many he actually had. Scattered among the slashing lines, he could see white scars from where he was stabbed or punctured and even some welts from burns. Bruises still coloured his skin unpleasantly-fist shaped bruises at that-and he could see the indentations of his ribs. For as long as he could remember, he'd been able to see them, but never this badly. His almost gagged when he saw how obvious his sternum was under the scarred skin.

Draco had rocked forward and braced his hands on the skin. It was all that was keeping him up. He had never seen his body this bad before. It was terrifying to see it so damaged and most of it was permanent. Once he'd gotten control over his legs, he forced himself to remove his pants and shorts and his head got light. His breathing became rapid when he saw how thin his thighs were and the scars that covered them. One of the Dark Lord's greatest games had been cutting Draco's thighs open and kneeling on the wounds. The cuts had never healed properly, not until Severus came to help him, but he'd never had the chance to get rid of the scars. His stomach lurched at the thought of being permanently scarred. Having had enough, he'd run to the stall with the shampoo and he'd washed himself everywhere.

Despite being this lost in his thoughts, he still heard the soft feet approaching his room. Draco jumped up from where he'd been sitting on the edge of the bed and was preparing himself for the impending teasing Potter was guaranteed to give him.

Not even bothering to knock on the door, it swung open, and Draco was seconds away from berating Potter and his lack of manners when he saw the red hair that had him stopping.

"Malfoy," the Weaselette greeted him. It might have sounded calm, but he could tell the youngest Weasley was far from that. Her bright brown eyes were livid and she was stalking close to him. It was the wand in her hand that had him backing up with every step she took.

"No manners?" he asked, trying to cover his fear. He was certain he'd be able to take the blood-traitor on if he had his own wand as well, but as they were, he had every right to be scared of the witch.

She clearly ignored him and moved over to the chair by the desk. "I've come to talk to you."

"Generally, the nice thing is to talk _with_ someone…"

"Shut up." Draco sneered but his mouth closed and he let her do the talking. "You don't have the right to be here. I don't know why Harry didn't send you off to Azkaban the moment he saw you, but you're here." Weasley was playing with her wand, throwing it in his face that he was defenceless against whatever it was she had planned.

"I don't think he'll be happy if you hurt me. Not since he vouched for me and all…"

"That is the _only_ think stopping me from hexing you to Merlin-knows-where."

Draco hadn't even realised that he was still backing up until he bumped into the stone wall. It was like the wall had slapped him on the shoulder, telling him that he had nowhere to go.

"For some strange reason, Harry seems to have forgotten how much pain you caused when you let the Death Eaters into the castle. We lost our leader, Hagrid lost his home, I nearly lost my brother and I lost Harry." She glared at him before leaning back in his chair. "Did you even realise that you were causing that much trouble? Did you realise that by allowing that attack, you'd ruin lives? My brother, Bill, has cancelled his wedding because of what you and Greyback did to him."

"Just to clarify, I didn't know Greyback was…"

One of his pillows exploded from the quick hex the girl sent his way (and he'd forever maintain that he hadn't yelped at the sudden attack).

"His face is permanently scarred, Malfoy. He mightn't be able to have normal, healthy children because of what you did," she hissed out.

Again, the blonde felt his stomach lurching. Draco knew what it was like to have his body scarred.

"If it's any consolation at all, I won't be having any children, myself."

His words were again ignored. "And because of you, Harry now believes it's too dangerous to be with me."

Draco had to fight his every instinct to raise his eyebrow at her statement. He hadn't noticed that they'd broken up-Potter hadn't said anything (not that he'd said much that wasn't a reaction to Draco's insults).

"He was fine dating me until Dumbledore was killed. Now he…"

"Didn't you put out, Weaselby? He's the Boy-Who-Lived and all boys need a little care."

Weasley's face burned a bright red and her fingers stopped twirling her wand. A smirk crept its way onto Draco's mouth, finally having found something fun to play with. "Or maybe you did and he wasn't impressed? That's what he gets for bedding a low-class blood-traitor." She glared at him again and the smirk grew wider. On a roll, he started to take steps towards her, lowering his voice as he got closer to her. "Or perhaps he was sickened over the thought of fucking your overused c…"

Her palm connected with his cheek with a loud smack. Pleased with himself, Draco turned and headed to his bed, but the following curse stopped him.

Whatever the curse was, it hit him just about his right knee and it had him down in a moment. It stung terribly and started to spread.

"You fucking _cowardly_ bitch!" he snapped over his shoulder, rubbing at his thigh. "Shit!"

Draco felt his entire thigh and halfway down his shin tingle with pain. It was like the sharpest case of pins-and-needles he'd ever felt and it was only getting worse.

"Apologise," Weasley demanded, aiming her wand at his face. She moved so she was towering over him, taunting him with the cure but not giving it to him.

Through his teeth, Draco refused. "You have no right to order an apology from me. I was merely speaking the truth."

With her free hand, she grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled back, now pressing the tip of her wand to his exposed throat. "You're wrong."

"Potter doesn't want you because you whored yourself off for a year. I'm disgusted and it's only your hand that's touching me."

The Weaselette dug the wand in harder. "Say it."

A cold, bitter laugh started to come from Draco's throat. "I've been tortured by the best, Weasley. This doesn't even come close." Honestly, though, the pain was hitting excruciating. The tingles had taken up his entire right leg, down to his toes and were spreading over his crotch and his right side. His toes felt like they were burning up and the initial sting was starting to freeze. It truly was an interesting curse-one that he wasn't sure was so light.

Taking in what he said, Weasley finally came through on her threat and placed the same curse on the sensitive skin of his neck. This time, a loud cry came from the blonde. It was different this time around. The stinging had his windpipe fluttering under the stress.

He gasped for air and Weasley pushed him to the side so he fell over. She then crouched by face. "If you apologise, I'll remove it."

The sting was travelling up his face and over his chest. His lungs, especially, hated the effects and seemed to freeze, not wanting to expand to where the pain was. Draco could only get in small breaths the few times his throat worked in the seconds after Weasley cast the spell.

His lips were numb with the tingles until they started to burn. Somewhere inside him, he feared what it would be like if the curse was to reach his eyes.

* * *

Harry was the first to jolt up when the cry woke them up. Ron followed behind quickly. Not much woke Ron up once he was sleeping, but a scream was enough to get him out of bed and running. They looked at each other for just a moment before they had their wands in hand and their feet against the floor.

It didn't take them long to locate where the cry had come from. Malfoy's door was opened slightly and the light under the door showed movement.

"Shit," Harry breathed and sped down the hallway. When Ron heard Ginny's voice coming from the room, he was quick on Harry's heels.

Harry pushed the door open and had his wand out in a single movement. Ginny jumped when she saw her ex before she saw his eyes widen at the sight of Malfoy curled up on his side.

"Ginny? What the hell have you done with him?" Harry gasped and knelt by the blonde Slytherin. He quickly looked him over, not sure what to do. Malfoy was clearly having trouble breathing and small tears were forming in his eyes. His legs-especially his right one-were twitching and his elbow was hot to the touch. "Take the hex off him."

"Get him to apologise to me."

"The _counter-curse_, Ginny." The Weasleys very rarely heard Harry snap at a fellow Gryffindor like that. It had to have been the first time it was directed at a family member.

Brown eyes looked at Ron's for a second before Ginny removed the curse. The first sound they heard was Malfoy's giant heaving breaths as he tried to get the oxygen back in his system. Harry watched as Malfoy rolled onto his back, his mouth wide and his eyes bloodshot.

"What happened?" Ron asked, gently grabbing for his sister's arm.

"He deserved it," she claimed. "And he needs to apologise to me."

Malfoy stayed quiet, glaring up at her as she returned it.

"I know he deserves a lot for what he's done, but this isn't the way," Harry told her, now calmer.

Ginny yanked her arm from her Ron with a forcefulness that obviously wasn't necessary. "I don't know what he's done to you, Harry, but it's obvious you're not in your right mind. He's getting away with _everything_. You should have taken him off to Azkaban the moment you found him. I don't want to be under the same roof as him."

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed heavily. He glanced down at Malfoy quickly, who was avoiding everyone's eyes while he got his body back to normal, before he looked back up at Ginny. "Don't you think he's gone through enough as it is? Even Madam Pomfrey seemed shocked at everything that's happened to him. He's not getting away with anything. Voldemort made sure of that." Harry saw the shudder Malfoy gave at his ex-master's name. "We've already talked about this, Ginny."

She huffed and left without saying anything.

Ron looked at Harry. "You'll be right to take care of him?"

"Yeah," Harry groaned and watched as Ron followed his sister. Harry grabbed Malfoy's arm and pulled him up so he was sitting. "Alright?"

Silver eyes glared up at him. "No, I'm not alright, you ponce," he snapped angrily. "I want a wand."

"We can't give that to you…"

"How am I going to protect myself from something like that?"

"I'll talk to her."

Malfoy pushed himself up, but he was wobbly on his legs. He grabbed at right knee and limped a little on his way to his bed. "From what I heard, talking doesn't do much."

"I'll have a longer talk with her."

A scoff came from Malfoy and he turned his head away. "Find a way to ward her from this room."

"I'll see what I can do, Malfoy, but I can't promise you anything."

Malfoy turned his head away and rubbed at his knee in earnest. Harry stayed where he was on the floor, just watching the blonde.

Harry had never seen Malfoy so dishevelled before. Even in the medical wing pyjamas, he still looked like he could do some damage at the Wizengamot, but here, in his own robes, he looked empty. It was like he'd given up on being a Malfoy.

"Does your knee hurt?" he asked softly.

"Fucking genius, you are."

With anger, Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from retorting. "Is that where the spell hit you?"

"Nothing gets past you, Potter. You should have been a Keeper. Weasel has nothing on you."

Harry rolled his eyes and scooted closer to Malfoy. He reached out and started to roll Malfoy's pants leg up. "Let me see."

Malfoy's hand smacked his away. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Helping you," Harry clarified and tried again.

Determined, Malfoy's hands swatted at him. "I don't need you to help me. The pain will go away soon enough."

"It'll go away sooner if you let me help you."

Malfoy scoffed. "I highly doubt you're talented enough to be healing people."

"I'll show you. Now, stop smacking me like a girl and…"

This time, Malfoy raised his foot and pushed at Harry's shoulder with it. "You're awfully close to my feet, Potter. I'm not afraid to kick your teeth in."

"Or break my nose, as I recall," Harry replied scathingly but backed off. The Gryffindor in him told him to continue, but he knew better than to get into it with Malfoy from the position they were in. "I would have thought you'd jump at the chance at getting your boo-boos healed, Malfoy." Malfoy paused. "Merlin knows you have a light threshold and you've jumped at the attention before." It interested Harry the way Malfoy suddenly didn't want any attention. And then it clicked. He remembered what Voldemort had done to him in his vision. "Is it really that bad? I saw it happen in my dream, but I thought Madam Pomfrey would have healed them up…"

"Isn't it the Golden Boy's bed time yet? Surely you need your beauty sleep."

Harry looked down and conceded his defeat. He'd leave Malfoy alone to wallow in his pain. "Fine, fine. But if you want someone to take a look at your knee-someone who already knows what's happened-don't hesitate, okay? I know Voldemort's a particular brand of arsehole and…"

"Don't start thinking we'll bond because we share that similarity, Potter," Malfoy hissed and Harry could easily see how angry he was with him. "Piss off already."

Harry sighed and stood. "I, err…" He paused, trying to find the right things to say. He was sure Malfoy wouldn't appreciate knowing that Harry was there with him during the day to make sure his nightmares were okay. "I'll check in tomorrow night. To see if your knee's better, you know?"

He received no answer, which was exactly what Harry was expecting. Taking it as permission to leave, Harry did, and dragged his weary body back to bed.

* * *

When Potter finally left, Draco fell back on the mattress and tried his hardest not to groan out his frustration. His knee was killing him and he wanted nothing more than to get Potter to fix it up, but the last thing he really wanted was for Potter to see those horrible scars. It was bad enough that he knew about them. He didn't need to see them as well. Draco winced when he imagined what Potter's reaction would be to seeing them. He'd be disgusted, that was for sure. Anyone would be disgusted with how his body now looked.

And that was his main problem. Once upon a time, he was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the wizarding world. Before the Dark Lord returned, his parents were working on an engagement between him and another Slytherin. She was a few years younger than him, but they'd already regarded each other their fiancée. When the Dark Lord returned, though, her family were quick to cut ties with the Malfoys, so he didn't even have his betrothal to fall back on.

Even then, though, love wasn't a necessity in marriage. He most certainly didn't love Astoria when they were engaged and he knew for sure that his parents weren't initially in love with each other. Sure, it got there, thanks for their mutual affection for him, but he wasn't going to have a child with someone just to make them love him.

The stinging in his knee wasn't going away. It was throbbing and he just wanted to cut his leg off.

"Yeah, because _that's_ attractive," he grumbled to himself, voicing his anger at his own thoughts.

Everything was wrong. He wasn't meant to be stuck in a room in the Gryffindor Tower, thinking about cutting off his own leg and only deciding against it because it would complicate his job in fooling someone into loving him.

Because he'd have to fool them. Without a doubt, he'd have to fool them. The Weaselette was right. He was to blame for so many horrible things that had happened over the past few weeks. He deserved to be locked up and no one could possibly love someone like him without an Imperius or a love potion of sorts.

Draco turned onto his side and stared at his lone pillow. Those were most likely out of the question. The potion probably knew enough about those options to lock them out. Yes, the bloody potion probably understood that someone was likely to resort to such plans.

A sudden tapping at the single window in the room had Draco jumping up and off the bed. He'd finally stopped listening out for an approaching enemy, so he was completely taken by surprise by this. When his heart had calmed, realising that it wasn't his monster. No, his monster would never knock on anything. It would come out of the shadows and jump him before Draco even realised that there was something there. The thought was enough to make Draco's eyes dance around the room before they settled on the window.

Sitting on the ledge, on the other side of the glass, was a small owl Draco didn't recognise. It had in its mouth a letter, showing that it hadn't flown too far to get it to him.

He warily opened the window and the owl hopped into the room, settling on the desk under the window, where it dropped the letter.

"I don't have anything to pay you with," Draco told the bird gingerly. It cocked its head at him before hopping back up onto the ledge. Having given the letter, the bird spread its wings and disappeared, leaving Draco alone in his room again. "Fine. I didn't want you companionship anyway."

The blonde nearly slammed his head into the closest wall regarding his huffing words behind the back of an _owl_ and decided to read the letter instead.

His name was on the front of the envelope, marked with plain, methodical handwriting. He'd seen it enough to know exactly whose handwriting it was, but the double S signature on the back of the envelope helped. Draco pulled the parchment from the envelope and smiled with relief when he read it. It was from Severus, just as he'd expected, and it was telling him of a meeting. Severus wanted him downstairs at the common room fireplace in three minutes. That was doable.

So Draco put the parchment down on the table and made his way to the door. He stopped when he realised he had to pass Potter's room to get where he needed to go, so his next few steps were the lightest he'd ever walked. On the tips of his shoed toes, he nearly pranced down the hallway with determination. He was _not_ going to make a single sound. His knee made it slightly difficult, though.

Draco got to the stairs without rousing the sleeping duo, which pleased him immensely. It was then that he realised how horrible his life was becoming. He was happy because he could sneak. What a brilliant Slytherin he made.

If he could have said it out loud without destroying the silence he'd created, Draco would have called himself a dickhead.

But he couldn't, so he continued downstairs and was breathing in a sigh of relief before he knew it. The gaudy common room was blissfully empty. He'd only just gotten to the fire when Severus' head appeared.

"Professor!" Draco breathed, smiling honestly. This definitely had to be the highlight of his last few days. "How are…?"

"Now's not the time, Draco," Severus instantly berated. "You're well?"

"As well as I could be, given where I am."

"You'll be thankful they've taken you in like that."

"You know?" Draco asked, surprised by how much his Head of House (ex, but he didn't want to think of it like that) knew.

"Of course I know. It's the only place you'd be safe and they're the only ones who'd help you."

"I wouldn't call it _help_…"

"You will. They'll do everything they can to cure you."

Draco looked off to the side, suddenly annoyed that even Severus was on the side of the bloody Gryffindors on that one. "Where are you, then?"

"I can't say," Severus answered coldly. "I wanted to see with my own eyes that you were alright."

"And you? You're not hurt or anything?" Draco returned his gaze to the fire.

"I'm fine."

Draco felt a little sheepish asking the next question. "What about my parents?"

It was hard to tell through the flames, but Draco was sure he saw Severus frown further. "Your father is still in Azkaban, but they're planning on breaking him out soon. Your mother, though…I saw her before I got you out."

Draco's eyes widened. He hadn't heard anything about or from his mother since he failed his task. She's disappeared completely, fearing the Dark Lord's anger. It made sense that she'd be the next targeted by him. Both her husband and her son had failed him.

"How was she?"

"Scared."

The blonde looked down and nodded his head. "That's because she was scared of helping you, wasn't it? She was helping you get me out of there…"

"She did no such thing, Draco," Severus hissed out. "Your mother didn't care for your punishment so long as it was you who was suffering."

Something inside Draco told him that this was the greatest possibility. Narcissa barely had a maternal bone in her body. She'd choose her own safety over his. The Unbreakable Vow Severus had taken was to protect her as much as it was protection for him.

Dread filled him. His mother didn't even love him.

For the first time in a very long time, he felt his emotions get the better of him and he knew tears were filling his eyes for the second time that night.

"I-I have to go," he told Severus. He didn't even bother staying to hear Severus' response and took off to the stairs, limping the entire way.

* * *

**Reviews are appreciated XD**


	8. Chapter Eight: To Share

**I have many sorries for you all! I didn't mean for this one to be so late. I've been straying from my original plan with new things and twisting it around, so there's been a lot of going-back-and-checking for continuity issues and pleh! Uni's been full-on, too. And the weekends. Pleh. **

**Thanks so much for the reviews and the birthday wishes. It was amazing. We had this great masquerade and my mother bought me a cloak and my older sister got me a parasol and I'm just so thankful for my friends and family and hyuuuuuuuu.**

**Victoria Humblydum: I'm so completely tempted to get them together already! Jeepers, this is the first time I've ever wanted to rush their relationship and get to the good part. So much so that I've actually written the epilogue ten chapters in advance...**

**soupcan: I hope this continues to fill your tortured!Draco needs. This chapter is especially sweet XD**

**DeathGoddess18: And a shoulder he may receive. I'm writing that at the moment.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine. **

**Status: Chapter eight of nineteen.**

**

* * *

****Chapter Eight: To Share**

* * *

When Harry woke up the next morning, it was bright and sunny and he knew straight away that Malfoy would be unconscious. So he slipped out of bed, quickly noted that Ron was missing, and went up the hall to Malfoy's room.

The first thing Harry noticed was that Malfoy was missing. He wasn't in his bed, tossing and turning the way he'd been the day before. Harry could feel the colour drain from his face and his heart speed up at the thought. His first reaction was to turn around and find Ginny, but he heard something that changed his mind. From the other side of the bed, he heard a pained moan. Quickly, Harry ran around the bed and found Malfoy in his pyjamas on the ground beside the bed. It was as if he'd gotten himself ready for bed but didn't make it before the sun came up.

With a relieved sigh, Harry crouched by Malfoy and picked him up in his arms. The blonde fought against him, squirming in the way Harry had expected of him, but Harry got him into the bed and under the blankets safely. From there, Malfoy instinctually curled up to the only pillow (Harry was certain he saw two there when Malfoy first moved in) and continued on with his obviously horrible nightmare.

The room the house-elves had put him in was one of the very few rooms with a window facing the east. The brightness of the room was something Harry was certain Malfoy wasn't used to, so out of habit, he closed the thick curtains. They were much thicker than Harry's curtains and blocked out the sun so effectively that Harry thought it appeared to be night again.

Harry was tempted to heal Malfoy's knee but knew he wouldn't appreciate him going behind his back like that. The last thing he needed was for someone else to abuse his trust. He instead sat on the side of the bed and combed his fingers through Malfoy's hair. It felt better this time around, courtesy of Harry's shampoo, Harry thought wryly. Yesterday it felt greasy and disgusting. Now it was light and fluffy. He looked over at the desk and saw a half-eaten bowl of risotto. It made him smile a little to know that he was at least eating something.

"Dobby," Harry called, remembering what he wanted to do for Malfoy.

The house-elf appeared in an instant, looking as awed as he normally did at the thought of being asked upon by the great Harry Potter. He was wearing several layers of knitted goods, as if he was wearing everything Hermione had made for the other house-elves.

"Harry Potter, sir," Dobby beamed, bowing down low. "It is an honour, sir. What can Dobby do for Harry Potter?"

Harry truly hated calling upon Dobby for any task, especially when he treated him like royalty, but he felt it would be better for Malfoy if this was done. "Hello, Dobby." The elf squeaked at the greeting, as if he wasn't worthy of a mere greeting. "I need you to go down to the Slytherin dungeons and get the bed Draco Malfoy used to sleep in."

Just hearing his former master's name had Dobby's eyes widening. "Young Master Malfoy?"

Harry hummed his confirmation, now looking over his shoulder at Malfoy, who was settling under his touch again. Dobby approached to get a better view and was finally able to see that it was Malfoy in the bed. Another squeak came from the elf, but this time it was more about fear.

"He's not going to hurt you," Harry told him. "I'd really appreciate it if you could get me his bed, his blankets, his pillows, a chair from the Slytherin common room-I want this room to be his; not so Gryffindor. Understand?"

Dobby's lower lip wobbled for a moment and Harry feared the house-elf would cry. He instead knelt at Harry's feet, bowing his head as low as it would go.

"Harry Potter is a great wizard! Harry Potter would give the evil Death Eater comfortable things, even though the evil Death Eater doesn't deserve it. A great wizard, indeed, sir!"

"So you'll do it?"

Dobby nodded his head, and with a click of his fingers, the chair at the desk was replaced with a hard wood chair, the colour schemes changed from red and gold to green and silver and even the closet and the drawers were suddenly dark and rich-looking.

"Dobby cannot change the bed while Young Master Malfoy is still in it, sir," Dobby apologised, so Harry stood and picked Malfoy up again. Malfoy struck at him a few times, clearly hating that he was being restrained, but Harry stood his ground until the bed was replaced. "Mister Harry Potter should stand against a wall, he should." Harry followed Dobby's warning and moved far away from where the new bed was going. Dobby clicked his fingers again and Harry's eyebrows rose considerably. Malfoy's bed was massive. It was easily twice the size of his own and took up the majority of the room now. There was a thick green doona covering it and six massive silk pillows coloured black, silver and green. Silver silk curtains draped down for privacy.

Harry knew he was lost in awe when he nearly dropped Malfoy after a particularly violent shudder and got his act together. He approached the bed (which didn't take very many steps at all) and Dobby pulled back the comforter so Harry could lower Malfoy back into the bed. He wasn't at all surprised to see black silk sheets waiting to embrace the blonde, so he slipped Malfoy in and then covered him back up. He watched, silently, as Malfoy calmed down. He curled into the closest black pillow and seemed at peace for the first time that morning.

Harry sighed, now happy with Malfoy's room. He looked much better against the darker colours. His skin didn't seem as disgustingly grey anymore. It gave him a healthy flush, actually.

Dobby regained Harry's attention by grabbing up the dishes left over from Malfoy's dinner. "Did he have to ask for food, or did the house-elves bring it up like they would a normal dinner?"

"Winky is being assigned to Young Master Malfoy, sir," Dobby answered. "Winky doesn't want to be paid and Winky doesn't want to be serving students. Winky is happier when Winky is taking care of someone. It is Winky who is bringing Young Master Malfoy breakfast, lunch and dinner, sir."

Harry nodded his head and stood. "Is breakfast still being served downstairs?"

"Of course!" Dobby squeaked excitedly and Harry was suddenly happy that Malfoy couldn't be woken up.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on the couch in the common room when Harry walked down the stairs. He'd showered and gotten dressed before he decided he was ready for breakfast. Because, of course, breakfast meant he'd have to face Ginny again and he didn't really feel up to that.

"Good morning," Harry smiled, slowing down his pace.

"Can we talk for a bit?" Hermione asked and Harry felt his stomach grumble in protest. The look Hermione was giving him, though, was enough for him to push his hungry belly aside.

"Sure. What is it?" He sat down next to her, still smiling.

"Ginny told me about what happened last night."

And that was Hermione getting to the point.

"Look, Hermione, if this is about me picking Malfoy's side…"

"I'd be boxing your ears in before you'd have woken up if you hadn't taken his side, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "What we need to talk about is how we're going to protect him from Ginny and Ron and the students when they get here."

Harry blinked at her stupidly for a moment or two. "So, you're okay with me helping out Malfoy?"

"Of course I am. We all agreed that Malfoy doesn't deserve this. And he doesn't deserve to be attacked in his own room when he's defenceless. I thought Ginny was above such low tactics. I didn't expect her to pull something like this at all."

"Same here," Harry grumbled and fell back against the back of the couch. Just talking about what Ginny did drained him. "She got him a good one. When I got there, he could barely breathe. I don't even know what hex it was."

"She wouldn't tell me," Hermione sighed, "but she said it wasn't enough. She wanted him to apologise to him, but she wouldn't say what for. I told her that it was up to Bill if he wanted anything else to happen to Malfoy, but she just rolled her eyes and walked off. Did we miss something? Was she attacked when the Death Eaters were in the school?"

"I don't think it's anything like that. I think he might have said something that pissed her off. Which, knowing Malfoy, is highly possible. He's so defensive and angry." Harry sighed again, this time out of frustration. "He wants wards up to stop her from coming in."

"I don't blame him. Do you think it's possible to stop just her, or will he want ones to stop everyone?"

"It wouldn't be good to block everyone from his room. I can't even begin to imagine how much Ron would hate that. And with his nightmares, it's best to tie him down sometimes…"

The look Hermione gave him had him blushing slightly. "Do I even want to know?"

"He scratches at himself and then he bitches for hours afterwards because they sting so much. It's not my bloody fault he thinks something's attacking him in his sleep."

Hermione sighed at Harry's answer but accepted it. "Just be careful with that one, okay? You're getting far too involved, which could be why Ginny's so upset. Maybe she's seeing Malfoy as the reason why you won't get back with her." She leant forward and propped her elbow up on her knee to rest her chin in her hand. "We'll have to sort it out with Professor McGonagall. She'll have to know what Ginny did to him. As for keeping her out, though, I guess the adults would have a better idea what to do. A password to get in could work, but we'd need a portrait up and we don't want that sort of attention there when the students arrive."

Harry sat up straight when he thought of something. "Isn't he supposed to be watched over by the Order? Isn't there supposed to be a guard watching him at all times?"

"There's a guard stationed outside the door," Hermione said, cocking her head at the back of the portrait. "He's there just in case he tries to leave."

"That's unhelpful."

"We'll just have to talk to Professor McGonagall and see what she can come up with."

Stomachs were generally known to have really bad timing, but when Harry's grumbled this time, it signalled the end of this 'Malfoy conversation' and even Hermione had to agree. With a smile, they both got up to leave.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed when he walked into the Great Hall was that Ginny was sitting on her own. Ron must have truly thought she'd stuffed it if he was leaving her alone after she pulled that on Malfoy. After everything that had happened the many years before, Harry figured Ron would be the last to shun his sister after she hurt Malfoy, but Ron wasn't happy with her at all.

Harry sat down on the bench next to Ron who, with a mouth stuffed with Merlin knew what, greeted him with what Harry recognised as a 'good morning'.

"Good morning to you, too," Harry replied, while Hermione rolled her eyes at the redhead, disgusted with his lack of manners.

It was becoming more and more apparent everyday that love was blossoming between Harry's two best friends. When he thought about how they've always acted around each other, he just knew that they were going to end up together. Ever since fourth year, they'd been dancing around the actual 'getting together' part and stayed in the limbo Harry constantly saw them in. The greatest thing he could do for them was point out that they both had the same feelings for each other, but he never did. It wasn't his place. And he didn't want to make things awkward for them.

For a while there, he thought the four of them, with Ginny, would end up growing old together, watching their children play together, but now he was realising that that dream had only been that. As time went by, he realised that he didn't want a future with Ginny and her attack on Malfoy confirmed it in his mind.

Ron's elbow in his ribs got Harry's attention and he looked at the taller teen. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Wanna go out for a fly a bit later? It's a nice enough day," Ron asked. "It might take our minds off the strangeness of these past few days."

"Sounds brilliant," Harry responded and poured himself some pumpkin juice. There were some eggs calling his name, so he scooped a massive helping onto his plate.

* * *

When Draco opened his eyes, he couldn't believe what he saw. He was in bed-_his _bed-and the sun was coming through the massive French windows off to his right. Quickly throwing the blankets off his warm body, Draco moved over to the windows and opened up the thin curtains, revealing the balcony and the gardens of the Malfoy Manor. Even though he was exposed in front of the window, he pulled his pyjama pants and shorts down and saw that he was missing the cuts and the scars on his thighs. A smile cracked his face wide open and he yanked his clothes back up.

It had all been a nightmare.

He grabbed for a gown to keep him warm and quickly padded to the dining room, where he could already smell breakfast being served by the house-elves. He couldn't wait to see his mother's face. It felt like it had been years since he'd seen her. And after hearing what Severus had told him in his nightmare, he wanted nothing more than to see her. He wanted that horrible thought banished from his mind forever.

The way to the dining room took him down two flights of stairs, through a lounge and through a hallway. It was brightly lit, much more than Draco had remembered. The feel of the sun on his skin-on his body through his _clothes_-was like a heaven he hadn't experienced before. Even the usually cold marble didn't chill his bare feet the way it normally did, like it was warmed by the heat of the day.

Draco turned the corner to the dining room and froze, feeling all the blood drain from his face.

* * *

It was exhilarating. Harry hadn't been out flying in months and it felt amazing to be up in the air, defying human nature and risking his life by achieving the speeds he was attempting. Ron couldn't keep up with him and they both knew it wasn't because of the broom. Harry flew like he was meant to; as if he should have had wings at birth.

Hermione sat in the stands, craning her head up every now and then to watch her two best friends. They were zipping around the Quidditch pitch, practising moves she'd never attempt or even remember the names of. She'd never mentioned it, but it did bother her a little that she could never grasp Quidditch. She'd attended a Muggle school before she received the letter from Hogwarts, and they were often made to play Muggle sports once a week in the school curriculum. Even then, she hadn't managed to be any good. She couldn't kick a football straight, her elbow always bent just that little bit when she tried bowling in cricket and she'd always shuffle her feet when she caught the ball in netball. Books never blew a whistle at her and they weren't likely to smack her in the face when she wasn't looking like a ball could. Some people were built for sports and others had the capacity to read a few hundred pages in a day.

At first, she'd been a little annoyed that Ginny was better suited for her best friends. Ginny had the physique of a tomboy who was quickly blossoming into a beautiful woman. She knew Quidditch inside out and she was a powerful witch without really trying. Hermione was what her grandmother would call a 'lady'. Her body had the right curves now and she was the brightest witch in her class.

Despite their grumblings, Ron and Harry loved her for who she was-brain and lack of coordination skills included. That was enough for her.

But she loved watching them flying around. They were so talented at it and she almost wished that Ginny could be there with them, enjoying the wind going through her hair and snapping her robes around her. However, after the past twenty-four hours, she wasn't sure Ginny was going to be around them much more. It was a shame; Ginny was a brilliant person. She just seemed to be falling off the tracks a little and maybe needed some time away from the excitement that was Harry Potter.

With a sigh, Hermione looked at her notebook. There wasn't much written there, and what was there was written in a Muggle biro. Hermione loved the magical world, really. It was just much easier to do things with pens than it was with quills. It was quicker and cleaner and she found that the ideas just ran out with it. As she watched Harry and Ron, she thought about the ways she could keep Ginny out of Malfoy's room. She thought about the Horcruxes and where they could be. She thought about the relationship between her and Ron and where that was going (she pretended she didn't blush when these thoughts entered her mind and _most_ _certainly_ never drew love hearts unconsciously on the pages that she later brought her wand out to erase). Nothing had happened yet, but she would overhear the other girls gossiping about the looks Ron would give her and she remembered well how Ron had reacted to Viktor's advances back in the fourth year. And it wasn't as if his apparent affections weren't returned. Hermione mightn't have ever said anything, but they were there. They were just waiting for the other to make the first move. Hermione was certain, though, that Harry was going insane with their 'nothing' and lock them together somewhere.

She looked up again and saw that Harry had stilled slightly, looking towards the large tower where she knew Malfoy was sleeping. He'd been there only for a few nights, but she could see the return of Harry's obsession with Malfoy. Last year, he'd been obsessed with the blonde and he was right to have been so paranoid. Now, though, it wasn't that he was worried about the school. This time, he was worried about Malfoy and what his future was likely to be.

* * *

Draco felt his knees grow weak at what he was seeing. The monster was sitting at the head of the table, digging in to the body that was spread out on its back. Long claws moved efficiently, tearing at the insides of however it was, before the flesh and innards were brought up to its mouth.

Draco didn't know where he got the strength from, but he turned sharply and ran to the door. They slammed closed and he collided with them, crashing down to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"No," he pleaded, crawling and scrambling to get up, pulling himself up with the doorhandle, and slamming his palms against the thick wooden doors. "Let me out."

The sound of his hands striking the door reverberated through the room and he didn't stop, not until he heard the clicking of claws against the marble. Draco froze again, hearing the clicking get closer. When he could actually feel the creature panting on the back his neck-when he could smell the thick, metallic tang of the blood on its breath-he started to shake.

It reached for him. Draco watched as the two bloodied fingers and the one thumb wrapped around his left forearm and whimpered when he felt the hand burn him.

"Ow-please, no," he breathed, flinching away when a blunt nose nuzzled his chin from over his shoulder. He felt the blood from its previous meal spreading across his face, but he was forced to do as the creature wanted him to when its tail wrapped around his waist. "Please…"

The monster clacked its jaws together and made a crooning noise that Draco felt rumble through his body. It nuzzled him again and started to lead him away from the doors and back towards the table.

Draco looked down while they walked, doing everything the monster wanted. Two large claws on each foot were accompanied by one larger, curved claw that was poised upwards, not hitting the flooring at all. It was easily the sharpest weapon the creature had. The monster forced Draco to sit to the left of the head of the table, where Narcissa normally sat next to Lucius, before it took the head spot again. It perched itself on the chair and removed its hands from Draco's body so it could continue eating. Its tail, though, remained around Draco's waist.

A sickening crack of a rib bone had Draco gagging, more so than the sight of the monster tearing out a rib and throwing it over its shoulder. It landed with a disturbing squishing noise somewhere Draco didn't want to look, and the monster got to devouring what it was after. Draco had to close his eyes when he saw the dead organ being dragged from the body. He turned his head away and willed it all away.

He was brought back to the reality of the nightmare when he smelt the thick, rancid stench right under his nose.

"No," he sobbed, pushing away at the table. His nails were biting in to the beautifully polished wood so deeply he almost thought his nails were going to snap. He didn't care.

The crooning returned, but when Draco objected again, it turned into a growl and the tail tightened around him.

"Please no." Tears were falling from his eyes openly.

The monster roared and stood suddenly, gouging the body and whipping it off the table with its free hand. It pressed the heart to Draco's lips, shoving it in his face so forcefully that Draco and his chair were sent crashing to the floor. Moving quickly, the monster kicked the chair away and straddled Draco's hips,

"No!"

It let go of his waist and used its tail to hold his hands down, wrapping his wrists together and pinning them above his head. Then it sat back and dragged a nail down the heart. Blood started to pour from it, down onto Draco's face, so he closed his mouth and his eyes and turned his head to one side. Not having any of it, the monster grabbed his chin and forced his face upwards and his mouth open.

Draco started kicking, bucking, _anything_ to get the monster off him. He spat the blood out, forced it out of his mouth so it spilled over his cheeks and his chin, but the monster covered his mouth and nose until Draco swallowed the blood down.

It relented then, sitting back and watching as Draco spluttered.

Draco rolled to his side when the monster got off him, but he listened to it as it moved around the dining room. It stopped at the body and Draco knew it was dragging it back to him.

"No more, please," Draco begged, rolling away from the monster when it returned.

Crooning again, the monster presented its victim to Draco and he threw up when he saw the dead brown eyes staring up at him. He wouldn't have been able to recognise her if it weren't for the freckles and those eyes. The Weaselette was dead with her chest carved out and most of it was eaten and Draco had…

He vomited again and kept going until he was dry heaving.

What made it worse was the fact the monster was beside him, using the palm of its hand to rub Draco's back in a _comforting_ manner. It was trying to console him.

And then its hand was moving over him further, reaching for his right knee. Draco felt it all click in his mind. The creature had killed Weasley in his nightmare because she'd hurt him in reality.

"What?" he breathed, turning around. "You're what? Protecting me? Getting revenge?" His voice got stronger with each question. "You're sick…"

There was a crest above the monster's black eyes and Draco could have sworn it rose with Draco's sentence, as if it was raising a questioning eyebrow. It responded to his allegation by poking at the blood-addled vomit, swirling its claw in it, as if to prove that Draco was the sick on for swallowing the blood of his own kind.

When Draco realised what it was getting at, he closed his eyes in his shame.

A pop came from Draco's right-the familiar pop of a house-elf entering a room. Draco opened his eyes again and saw the house-elf his family owned. Its name was Huffy, or something like that. She was holding a massive tray that was covered and she bowed the best she could as she greeted the monster.

A softer croon came from the monster, so the house-elf moved closer. She went to place the dish on the table, but was called over closer by the monster. It wanted Draco to see what was on the plate.

The monster made another noise and Huffy put the dish down on the floor, beside Draco and the monster. She then disappeared with another pop. The monster forced Draco to sit up before it waved one of its hands over the handle of the dish, suggesting to Draco that it was his meal to open. When Draco refused, shaking his head, the monster's hand wrapped around Draco's wrist and pulled it over the handle.

Draco's eyes slid shut and he gasped when the monster lowered his hand to the metal. "I-I don't want to." He balled his hand into a fist and refused to open it, even though the monster was now pressing his hand to the handle again and again. It was only when the monster bit him on the shoulder-it was gentle and barely broke his skin, but it was enough-that Draco grabbed on to the handle. He was shaking when he lifted it.

* * *

Despite the love Harry had for flying, though, he found his thoughts kept flickering to Malfoy with concern. Ron had frowned when he saw Harry's eyes constantly returning to the Gryffindor Tower, but didn't say anything for an hour or so.

It was when they stopped to get their breaths back after a particularly strenuous feint that Ron made mention. "You think he's alright up there?" he asked and Harry was grateful for his tone. He didn't sound angry, but he didn't sound concerned, either. It was obvious he wanted to see what Harry was thinking to get it off Harry's chest.

"I think he's having another nightmare, just like he'll always be until this curse is somehow removed," Harry sighed heavily. "I should be there when he wakes up, you know?"

"He's got another few hours, Harry. Enjoy what time you have before you have to worry about him."

"I'm more worried about him when he's sleeping."

Ron nodded his head, understanding. He'd seen the scratches on Malfoy's body from the previous nightmare.

"Did he tell you what he dreams about?"

Harry adjusted how he was sitting on his broom. Quidditch and flying might have been awesome, but the broom could have been better suited for wizards. "I know that there's a monster that he's scared of. And the last one had a lot of blood or something."

Ron wrinkled his nose with displeasure. "Malfoy's mind is disturbing."

"We've known that for years," Harry grinned weakly.

It was enough, though. Seeing Harry smile was always a good sign for Ron and Hermione. He had so little to smile about these days that even these little, forced grins gave them hope.

Harry looked at his watch and sighed again. "I should get going. I need to talk to McGonagall about getting a way to lock Malfoy's room…"

"Are you sure about that?" Ron asked.

So, Harry gauged, Ron was fine with him paying this much attention to him, but he wasn't okay with Malfoy having that sort of power in the Tower.

"He needs protection as much as we do. Ginny jumped him so we need to find out how to stop that."

"You can put up wards."

"I'll be sleeping during the night, Ron. He'll need to go to the bathroom at some point and we can't really expect him to spend all of his waking moments in his room. If I put up wards, he won't be able to get in or out."

It made sense, leaving Ron to sigh this time. "This is twisted."

"Yeah? Just try and get it through your head that we're the ones he'll turn to when he realises he needs someone to fall in love with him."

"Harry, we can't get our own dates. How the hell are we supposed to get him one?" There was a smile on Ron's face that lightened Harry's mood. It was nice to joke around.

"You know you've got a date with Hermione the moment you get the balls to ask her out," Harry smirked and Ron blushed bright red.

"Shhh!" He was looking around wildly as if Hermione was about to sneak up on them and hear their conversation. The problem with that, though, was that they were hovering in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. No one on the ground would be able to hear them and they both knew that Hermione would never get on a broom to fly with them.

"She's all the way down there, Ron. She's not gonna hear anything."

"Yeah, well, you've got Ginny if you ever want to take her back."

"I really doubt I will," Harry admitted and checked his watch again. "I should get going."

* * *

The scream that came from Draco's throat was raw and scared even himself. At least, it would have scared him if he'd heard it. All he could hear was the clanging on the metal lid falling beside him as he let go of it in shock. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore.

Looking up at him from the dish was his mother's face. Glassy eyes were staring back at him. A mouth was gaping open with blood lining the tongue and dribbling out over the lips and down the pale pointed chin. It pooled into a lettuce cup and was redder than the cherry tomatoes next to it. Long blonde strands of hair spilled forth and fell onto the floor.

It was her head and a small stump of her neck. And from what Draco could see, it had taken more than one hack to decapitate her.

Draco turned suddenly, heaving again, refusing to look at the gruesome scene that was his mother's dead face. He jumped sky-high when the monster slipped its hand onto his chest, under his gown, to rest on his pounding heart. It crooned in his ear and then embraced him almost tenderly.

Draco cried out when he pushed at the creature, screaming at it to leave him be. He stood, keeping his back to the dish, and started to shout. "I don't know what you're doing, but it stops here!" he snapped angrily at the monster, which moved in front of him. They were roughly the same size, but the monster was hunched over. It reached out and touched Draco's heart again. He swatted it away. "It doesn't matter. Whatever she made me feel in the real world…it doesn't justify doing this! Not even in a nightmare!"

At first, the monster looked hurt. It refused to make eye contact with Draco and even turned away slightly. It reminded Draco of a child being told off, even though they thought they were doing the right thing.

And the moment Draco started to feel pity for the monster, it looked back up at him with a toothy grin and started to laugh. This laugh was worse than the Dark Lord's. It was husky, but so high pitched that it hurt his ears.

Another pop sounded and then Huffy was there with more dishes. She popped up again and again and again until she was standing everywhere. The dishes didn't have lids on them and each dish held the head of someone Draco loved dearly.

* * *

They'd avoided the Tower for most of the day, but the moment they heard the screaming, they ran up the stairs, hoping that it wasn't Ginny who was attacking Malfoy again. Harry led the way there with Ron and Hermione close on his heels. Minerva wasn't too far behind.

Harry hurt his wrist by not turning the doorhandle at the right time as he ran to Malfoy, but he didn't care. It relieved him to see that Malfoy was alone in his room, but his breath caught in his throat when he saw what Malfoy had done to himself. His face had two large scratches over his cheeks, his hands were bloodied and his blankets were thrown everywhere.

"_Incarcerous_," Harry quickly cursed and Malfoy's wrists were bound above his head in a moment. He sat down next to Malfoy's upper body and reached with one hand for his hands and for his hair with the other. Very gently, he coaxed Malfoy's fingers to stop clenching in one hand and slipped his fingers in between. His hand in Malfoy's hair moved quickly in its carding, pushing Malfoy's hair out of his face. Patches of it was red where it had fallen onto his cheeks.

"Malfoy, it's okay," he breathed, putting his mouth at Malfoy's ear so he could hear him best. Malfoy continued to kick out. "Shhh. It's okay. I'm here now."

Ron and Hermione felt their mouths fall open at Harry's behaviour. They never imagined he'd get so into caring for Malfoy. It was obvious that he was going to great lengths to help him, what with the changing of the room and all. Even Minerva seemed stunned that the room was so Slytherin.

But what shocked them the most was how Malfoy was responding. He was already reduced to just whimpers rather than his screams. They could hear the occasional word here and there when he was begging for all of it to just stop.

Seeing that Harry had it under control, Minerva got to fixing what she was there for. They'd come to an agreement that the door could be locked and unlocked by keys and that Harry and Malfoy would be the only two with one. It was a simple transfiguration spell plus an added anti-alohamora spell to make it impossible for others to get in through other means.

By the time Minerva was done with the changes to the door, Harry had already calmed Malfoy right down. He was barely making a sound.

"I guess we made the right decision," Minerva commented, catching Harry's attention.

"I guess," Harry agreed and quickly looked back at Malfoy.

Minerva approached them but only to put the two keys on the bedside table closest to Harry. "One for you and one for Mister Malfoy, as we agreed."

Harry nodded his head, this time not even taking his eyes off Malfoy. The blonde's face was scrunched up with fear and his hair was wet at his temples from his tears.

A small smile appeared on Minerva's face before she turned to leave. Though, Harry didn't see it at all.

Hermione moved over to stand on the other side of Malfoy's bed. She leant against the wall and eyed Harry. "What do you think he's dreaming about?" she asked Harry softly. When she didn't grab his attention, she looked up at Ron with a questioning glance and Ron playfully nudged Harry with his hip.

Harry's head snapped up, and with a rosy blush, he looked at Hermione. "Sorry-what?"

"What do you think he's dreaming about?" Hermione repeated. Unlike Minerva, she didn't see a reason to smile. She was worried about how Harry was with Malfoy. In the end, Malfoy needed someone to love him to save him and Harry had his saviour complex. It was a combination that wasn't going to finish well. And with the way Harry was looking at Malfoy, she could already see that he was slipping into his obsession again.

"I know there's a monster in there somewhere," Harry said, his fingers continuously running through Malfoy's hair. "It really gets to him. He wakes up screaming."

Hermione nodded her head and didn't say anything else. Her mind was too busy with her own thoughts about Harry and Malfoy. She looked at Ron when he touched her arm and together they left the room.

* * *

Harry had only just decided that he needed to learn healing spells when Malfoy woke up. The blonde groaned and struggled against his restraints so much that Harry undid them and pulled Malfoy into his arms. He was shaking terribly, sobbing into Harry's shoulder about things Harry couldn't understand. Before long, the words disappeared completely until Malfoy was just hiccupping. Harry held on to him, rocking him gently, until he was all cried out.

When it was over, Malfoy's hands flattened against Harry's chest and he pushed him away. Harry let it happen, knowing what Malfoy was like.

"Are you okay now?" Harry asked, though he lacked the softness he'd normally use.

There was just something in the way Malfoy tried to wipe his eyes dry without being noticed that had Harry even angrier at Voldemort. The Malfoys were a proud family and they'd been reduced to what Harry was seeing in Malfoy now. And while Harry didn't like the Malfoys or what they stood for at all, he knew that this was wrong. He knew that no one was supposed to go through something like this.

"What do you care?" Malfoy snapped in return, building his walls back up in an instant.

Harry slipped off the bed with a sigh. "I'll leave you be, then."

And as Harry turned away, he spotted the way Malfoy's head snapped up. Their eyes met and Harry knew that Malfoy wanted him to stay, if only to keep him company, but when the blonde caved in to his own pride and looked away, Harry left.

* * *

**Reviews? Feedback? Again, I'm sorry for the time it's taken. I'm trying to make the chapters longer to make up for it. The next chapter's gonna be super long! It's a thousand words off this chapter and I'm not even halfway through it. Lots to come in chapter nine! I promise. Thanks.**


	9. Chapter Nine: To be Scared

**So! It's taken a while, but not as long as the previous few chapters. Unfortunately, though, I've gone ahead and capped the internet, so this might get a little frustrating. Oh well, it just means fewer distractions. The second unfortunately comes from the essays due on Monday. I barely have any internet to research crap on. I shouldn't have waited so long. Stupid Jinko. **

**Anywhos. Oh, I'm sorry for spamming emails with a Supernatural Dean/Cas ficlet. It was one of those crazy 'hey, it's something in the a.m.; I'm going to bed now. Nope. Fuck that. A plot just pimp smacked me and now I have to write it' things. **

**Slythindorclaw Hybrid: Yes, they're both virgins. It was the plan all along.**

**AlineDaryen: I hope this works as well as raspberries (which are some of my favourites, too...).**

**soupcan: I swear, I'm looking at my current plan, wondering what the hell I was thinking of when I originally wrote it. I did it years ago, it seems. I'm penciling in new crap constantly. It's like I've changed so much that I'm getting dizzy with all the issues...even the chapter titles are starting to not reflect the chapters and guh...**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter nine of nineteen.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine: To Be Scared**

* * *

Nothing changed over the next few weeks. Malfoy was still trapped in his nightmares. Hermione, Ron and Harry were busy trying to figure out what happened to the locket. The professors were working hard on getting Hogwarts sorted out for the return of the students (which was just around the corner). The trio was studying with Remus and a few Aurors when they weren't tracking down lost Horcruxes. Remus was trying to inconspicuously keep tabs on Snape. Tonks' morning (rather, morning, midday, night and everything in between) sickness was the easiest way of broadcasting her pregnancy, it seemed. Harry and Malfoy were getting closer. Ginny was slipping further, despite her attempts to gain Harry's attention (though the other's thought she was going after his testosterone's attention with how she was suddenly acting). Bill and Fleur had decided on finally going through with the wedding and that was only a few hours away. And they were getting nowhere with a cure for Malfoy.

Harry was making his way to the library after returning from a lesson with Shacklebolt, which conveniently ended with him getting his permit to Apparate, when Ginny ambushed him with another plot to get back together.

"I didn't see you at dinner," Ginny said smoothly, sidling up beside Harry without a greeting.

"I wasn't there," Harry replied calmly.

Ginny was in a pair of Muggle jeans that Harry had once complimented before. And he was right to do so. They clung in all the right places, showing off her curves and she knew exactly how to work them. She also wore a full v-neck sweater with a spaghetti-strap tee to stop it from being scandalous. Her hair flowed freely, just the way Harry liked it.

So it took only one glance at her for Harry to realise what was going on and he very nearly groaned in frustration.

"Where were you? Or is it something I'm not allowed to know about?"

Harry had never known that such an innocent question could have such a flirty intention. It came out with her voice and the smile she wore.

"I was with Shacklebolt, getting my Apparating licence."

Her bright smile got wider. "Congratulations!" Harry held back the flinch he knew was deep inside him when her hand landed on his inner arm. She left it there while they kept walking. "Anyway, I was thinking…"

"The last time you 'thought', we ended up having a fight, Ginny."

A single step in her stride faltered. "I'm-I'm just saying, Harry, that everyone around us is finding love. Why are we so different?"

The sigh couldn't be suppressed. "We've talked about this so many times," Harry argued. "It's not safe for either of us to be together and I've got so much at the moment that it's not fair on you…"

"And I've told you that I don't care about that. I want to be with you and I know that you still love me." She stopped and forced Harry to stop with her. When his feet were still, she turned him to face her. "We're perfect for each other. This is how it's meant to be."

Harry shook his head. "Ginny, the more you push this, the more I hate it. It's not going to happen any time soon, certainly not before Voldemort's gone for good. Maybe if the spark's still there after everything's done, we can work on something. For now, it's just not possible."

Ginny's face fell completely and she reached out with one hand to trail down Harry's chest. She stepped right up into his personal space-his personal bubble that he's always been so protective of-and pressed herself as close to him as possible.

"I know you're doing this so others will be safe and happy, but being with you right now would make me happier," she breathed, speaking lowly. She moved a hand up Harry's side and the other down his front, straight to his belt, which she tugged on. "I can provide you with love and comfort and even relieve you from the stress you must be feeling…"

Harry jerked away almost violently when Ginny's hand slipped down to cup him through his slacks. He broke free from the loose embrace she had on him and took several steps backwards.

"No," he said instantly, keeping his hands out in front of him to show his defensiveness. "I'm not interested in any of that."

It was then that Ginny's bright eyes started to well with tears, causing something (it was that natural _thing_ men felt when they made girls cry) to catch in the back of Harry's throat.

"Malfoy was right," she sobbed, letting those tears fall to her cheeks. "He was right about you not wanting me because I…"

That _thing_ may have appeared in his throat quickly, but the speed it disappeared at when Ginny mentioned Malfoy must have been the speed of light. "Malfoy? What's he got to do with any of this?"

She turned away in a huff, and even though her back was to him, Harry could see that she'd folded her arms over her chest. "He said you didn't want me because I'm not a virgin."

The words left Harry blinking stupidly at her back. "When did you _talk_ to Malfoy? I thought you were staying away from him after that night…" It hit him like a hippogriff to the chest. "He said this before you cursed him? _This_ is why you cursed him? He called you a slut?" A heavy breath left him almost dramatically (not that he cared though, since this was beyond dramatic and was up there with the horrible soap operas he could hear Aunt Petunia watching while he cooked dinner) and he ran a hand through his hair out of frustration.

Ginny didn't say anything, confirming her guilt, and that just made Harry even more upset. Knowing Malfoy the way he did, he knew that Malfoy had said those things to get her blood pumping. She should have known not to take anything he said seriously. It's not like they did. Not now, anyway. The trio had accepted that he was lashing out to save his own sanity. Even Ron was prone to nodding his head at whatever insult Malfoy had spat out as they passed each other, with the occasional 'yeah, whatever Malfoy' grumbled out.

"Ginny, Malfoy's a dick and you know that. Why would you let anything he said bother you?" Harry asked, not even bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

"It made sense," Ginny said finally. She was using her defensive tone, which was something Harry knew all too well. "You never wanted to touch me when we were serious. I always wondered why and Malfoy's words made sense."

Harry scoffed. "Malfoy never makes sense. He was hurting and he was taking it out on you. It's why he does with his time these days."

"I didn't know that back then."

The defence was lacking. But that wasn't the important part. They'd all put that night behind them-even Malfoy.

"It doesn't matter." Harry crammed his hands into his pockets and he looked away. "Honestly, Ginny, I couldn't care less about what you've done with other guys. The simple fact is that I wasn't ready for it then and I'm not ready for it now." She turned around abruptly, armed with an argument, but Harry was a step ahead of her. "I would never force anything on you or pressure you into anything you didn't want to do. Please give me the same courtesy."

"I'm not…"

"You are. You're trying to force your way into my life-and even into my pants-and I just don't want you in either right now. I _can't_ have you in either."

Harry could tell from the change in her stance that she knew she was defeated. It brought him a massive sense of relief to know that she understood at least that much.

Ginny nodded her head before putting up one last attempt. "Could you at least dance with me tomorrow at the wedding? For old time's sake? I know that Bill still wants us to be together…"

"One dance," Harry agreed, knowing that the groom would most certainly love to see his little sister dancing with the one she claimed to be the love of her life. But that was over and done with, so he looked outside to see where the sun was in the sky. The image he was greeted by nearly had his stomach dropping. The sky was painted orange and pink, indicating that the sun was just about to disappear, and he'd never not been there for Malfoy when he woke up.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said quickly before he headed off in the direction of the Tower, hoping he'd make it in time.

* * *

Swimming had always been something Draco was fond of. They had the most stunning pond in the back of their property, but he hadn't been allowed to swim in it when he was younger. Apparently, the act of swimming in a pond was filthy and not meant for a Malfoy. So when he was at his most rebellious, he'd sneak out and swim in it. It was safer to do it during the day, but it seemed like the night was a greater insult to his father. It was always cool, if not close to freezing, but it was something he enjoyed.

But the moment Draco found himself standing shin-deep in the familiar water, he knew it was a nightmare. The water was much colder than what he remembered and he could hear the monster's heavy breathing. He could feel it on the back of his neck, but he knew that no matter how quickly he spun around, he'd never be able to catch it. The damned thing was taunting him, as it normally did.

The pond itself wasn't large. It was bean-shaped and deep enough for Draco to be completely submerged while standing in the middle of it, but he could walk from one side of it to the other in only a few minutes. He'd done it before, actually.

It was night, which was something Draco now knew all too well. He bent his neck upwards so he could shoot the full moon (another reason why he knew it was a nightmare-he'd never go to the pond on the night of a full moon. Too many werewolves loved to brag and claim they spent a night on the Malfoy properties without being skinned alive for it to be safe) a nasty look. Hell, he even flipped it the bird just so it knew how pissed off he was with it. That only served to amuse the monster, though. Draco could hear it laughing at his childishness.

And then the laughter was right there beside him, and Draco knew that the monster would be to his right this time when he turned. So he didn't. Being a petulant child was something Draco was good at, so he ignored the monster right up until it leant forward to lick him.

The feel of that rough tongue on his bare shoulder was enough to startle Draco out of his defiance. Not only was he scared that he'd feel what it was like to be eaten alive again, but he also realised that in that moment, he'd lost all of his clothes.

He didn't know what it was that told him that going deeper into the water to hide his scarred body was a good idea, but he knew the moment he got there that it was quite the opposite. Especially when he realised the monster was following him in deeper. So Draco turned and ducked under the water, knowing he'd be faster if he swam.

When he pulled up for air, though, the monster was right behind him, this time actually breathing on him. It chilled him more than ever thanks to the cold water remaining on his skin.

"Please," Draco whimpered when the monster grabbed on to his shoulders and forced him to face it. He'd seen that face up close too many times to not know what those teeth were best used for. He'd been lunged at several times before and was half expecting those jaws to be wrapped around his neck or his shoulder at any point.

Instead, the monster pounced in an almost playful manner, and Draco was surprised that it hadn't caused him any pain whatsoever. The monster had its hands holding on to his shoulders and its feet were braced on his hips. Draco's balance was thrown slightly, so he unconsciously grabbed the monster in return.

And then it attacked. Draco cried out when he felt that massive claws dig in to his shoulders and hips and saw the water turn red as he bled. He let go so he could try to push it off him, but he braced himself for the imminent tearing of his skin. The monster loved the taste of his flesh.

But it didn't happen. The monster grinned widely at him and it pushed forward, destroying Draco's balance and sending him backwards into the water. It was then that Draco finally understood what the creature had planned for him and he knew that this was potentially worse than anything else he'd suffered.

The Dark Lord had taught him much about torture, but he'd never tried drowning him. It was something his father had warned him about and he knew that he was about to experience firsthand.

He descended into the water and held his breath, expecting the blurry image of the monster to drag him out after long intervals. That didn't happen, however, making Draco realise that the monster had no intention of taunting him with air. No, the monster reached down and punched Draco in his stomach. He gasped instinctively, but only to inhale water.

Fighting was useless, and Draco knew this, but he fought back. He squirmed and he pushed and he scratched, but the monster held him under and his lungs filled with liquid and it burned for such a long time until everything went black and colder still.

Mere seconds later, he opened his eyes to find himself at the pond's edge, shin-deep in the water, feeling the monster's breath on the back of his neck while he gasped for oxygen.

This night, he was to be rinsed and repeated

* * *

After all but jogging to the Tower, Harry used the key that was tethered to a chain he wore around his neck to open Malfoy's door. Malfoy didn't seem to mind one bit that Harry had the other key. More so, he seemed quite entertained with the fact that Harry had it on a necklace, which was the only jewellery Harry wore. Harry didn't know what to make of the flicker of emotion he saw in Malfoy's eyes every time Malfoy saw it dangling down below his sternum, and that just reminded Harry that he still had a lot to learn about the blonde. Worse yet, it didn't bother Harry at all that he knew he wanted to know more. Night was quickly becoming Harry's favourite time of the (ironically named) day. He thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Malfoy. The banter followed by the comfortable silence as they read or played a game of chess was something he'd never get out of anyone else.

And he was quickly beginning to love every moment of it.

Harry got there to find that Malfoy was still sleeping. He was tossing and turning, but he was still sleeping and that was all that mattered to Harry. He could still be there for him, gather him up in his arms and tell him that it was over.

So Harry opened the thick curtains that hid the true time of the day from the occupant in the room. Too many times, Harry had seen Malfoy glare at the moon, but he also knew that he didn't mind the view.

As Harry sat beside Malfoy in a position he was used to, he started to stroke his fingers through Malfoy's hair, pushing it back as if doing so pushed back the nightmares. And sometimes he really thought it worked that way because Malfoy always settled when Harry was there. Winky popped in for a moment to deposit Malfoy's breakfast, but she didn't stay any longer. The candles around the room sprung to life just as Malfoy took in a deep gasp, latching on to Harry's hand as his eyes opened. For a moment, those grey orbs danced around the room, looking for what Harry knew was the monster, before they settled on Harry.

Harry didn't even have to lift Malfoy up this time. It was Malfoy who launched himself at Harry, burying his face into Harry's chest and letting it all go. He was taking in deep breaths in a rhythm that scared Harry. It was uneven and too fast, like he was coming up for air after being dunked in a pool for a long moment. Harry didn't know how to calm him down, so he just held him close and hoped Malfoy would figure it out. Long fingers dug into Harry's biceps but then travelled up over his shoulders and around to his back. Harry let his own arms wind around Malfoy's body and just let him sob it out.

When Malfoy finally calmed down, he raised a hand up to wipe his tears away before he pulled back far enough to see Harry. They didn't separate too far, though. Harry's hands moved down to rest tenderly on Malfoy's blanket-covered hips and Malfoy's hands returned to Harry's arms.

Neither spoke about how much they touched, but it was such a mutual thing that they never thought to.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked softly.

Malfoy was avoiding Harry's eyes, which was a sign that Harry knew all too well. His charge didn't want him knowing he was upset.

"Hey?"

Rather than getting an answer, Malfoy shifted closer again and pressed his face against Harry's shoulder. Instinctively, Harry cupped the back of his head.

"That bad?"

"I…" Malfoy had to swallow before he could continue. "I've never actually died before." Harry nodded, showing his understanding. "But this time…I died over and over again. He held me under the water and I felt what it was like to inhale water. I felt it burn down my throat and into my lungs so many times."

"And it killed you?"

This time, it was Malfoy nodding. "Yes. It hurt so much."

Gentle fingers touched his face, neck, shoulders and his back, soothing him. "It's okay now. You're awake and everything's fine."

"I know." Harry dropped his hands from Malfoy's upper body and Malfoy moved away. He reached back and grabbed his breakfast.

"Do you want to know about what I did today?"

The fiery gleam in Malfoy's eyes was back, which was what Harry was looking for. "You're going to tell me regardless, right?"

Harry smiled at him and it was returned with a smirk. "I got my Apparating permit."

"Good for you." Sarcasm was always a good sign with Malfoy. "At least one of us gets to have fun."

"Apparation training with the Head of Aurors is anything but fun, Malfoy. He worked me like a drill sergeant while you were snoozing the day away."

Even when his mouth was filled with oats, Malfoy could still look pretty intimidating when he put his mind to it.

"Ha, ha."

"Yeah, I know. Also," and Harry shifted at this, knowing it was something to give Malfoy a little hope, "Remus has taken up teaching me wandless magic."

And it did grab Malfoy's attention. For the past several weeks, he'd been without his wand.

"Really?"

"Yup. Dumbledore taught me about wordless magic, and I'm not all that good at it, but Remus decided he'd work with me on the wandless aspect."

As always, when someone mentioned Dumbledore's death, Malfoy's mood fell. So Harry reached out and carefully ran his hand up Malfoy's arm. When his fingers moved over Malfoy's skin, he chanted under his breath and they both watched as the self-inflicted scratches healed over.

The achievement for Harry was what brought a smile to his face, but the tingling it left him was what had the butterflies crashing in his stomach. He wasn't new to touching Malfoy. Hell, he held him in his arms the moment the blonde woke up. Physical contact wasn't anything new to them. But to feel his magic spilling out into Malfoy's skin was more intense than anything Harry had ever experienced before. When he and Remus were practising, he managed to hover a pillow, so he hadn't felt what it was like to pass his magic on to someone else. This time, with Malfoy on the receiving end, he felt it pass through him and into Malfoy's injuries to heal them and it felt strong.

And from the way Malfoy froze up, he knew that Malfoy felt it in return.

"Potter…"

"I didn't expect that to work," Harry said instantly, trying to cover up the moment. They hadn't had many 'moments' together, but there had been enough to scare Harry and this one was no different. He couldn't get over how different it all felt with Malfoy. And he didn't even know what this different 'it' was. He didn't know where to begin.

Malfoy cleared his throat before he tried to follow Harry's feigned ignorance. "So you stupidly attempted a spell on me, not knowing it would be successful?"

Harry was more than thankful that Malfoy was going along with that. "I guess I'm just talented."

"I guess you're just a git." From there, Malfoy started to finish off his breakfast. It wasn't until he was done that he raised another question. "You're going to the wedding tomorrow with the Weaselette as your date?"

The bespectacled boy scoffed. "I'd rather choke on my tongue."

Malfoy nodded his head once. "Since when were you so anti-her?"

"You know, she told me why she hexed you that first night. I can't believe she got so upset over you calling her a slut."

"People hate to hear the truth," Malfoy shrugged, "if you don't mind me saying that about your ex, that is. Some of the Slytherins even considered giving her a ride until they realised just how used she was. I don't blame you for never…"

"She told you about that, huh?"

"She didn't have to." Malfoy set the bowl aside and grabbed the goblet of pumpkin juice that was just waiting for him. "I'm a Slytherin. I have superior people-reading skills."

Harry raised an eyebrow and purposely hit the next nerve. "Yeah, because you picked Voldemort so well." He got the expected angry glower.

"One of these days, I'll stop setting myself up for that one."

"I'm sure you will." Harry sighed heavily after that and stretched himself out on the bed, commandeering a pillow from the head of Malfoy's bed and slotting it under his chest so he could cuddle it.

"I never gave you permission to molest my pillows."

"It's willing." Malfoy shrugged at that and tipped over onto his side so that he was curled around to face Harry. "She's forcing me into dancing with her tomorrow."

Malfoy laughed at that, though it was more like a snicker. "I saw you _dance_ at the Yule Ball. You'll make a right mess out of it, just like you did back then."

"At least she won't want to dance with me again," Harry figured. "That's gotta be a pro, right?"

"Indeed."

They fell into their usual silence, and that bothered neither of them. Malfoy, however, figured that it was time for a shower, so he ordered Harry out.

* * *

Ever since Snape showed up in his quarters, Remus had been a little jumpy. Tonks had picked up on it straight away, but he played it off as first-time-dad nerves. She happily accepted that since it was talk of their baby. They hadn't had a repeat of that night, but that didn't mean that it wasn't going to happen again.

But Remus was surprised when he got the owl requesting a sundown meeting in the Shrieking Shack again. He went on his own, knowing all too well that Harry was busy with his own life. It wasn't as if he had to worry about Snape as well.

Remus got there first, a few minutes before the sun slipped beyond the horizon. Snape was there perfectly on time. Again, Remus quickly took his wand and their conversation started. The room was the same as it always was. It was dusty and covered with cobwebs

"Mister Malfoy's not doing too badly from what Harry's told me," Remus said as he lowered himself down into a shabby armchair.

"They're spending time together?" Snape asked, leaning against the closest wall. It was easy to see that he wasn't so much leaning against it as he was being braced up by it. Being on the run wasn't the easiest thing to do, especially when you're being hunted by both factions.

"As far as I know, Harry's there every night when Mister Malfoy wakes up. And then they're damn near inseparable once they start talking."

Snape very nearly snarled. His lip certainly curled up in disgust. "That surprises me. Draco was groomed to hate him."

"Yes, but Harry's the only one who'll talk to him. He's lonely, Severus, which is something I'm sure you can understand."

The glare he received was less threatening than usual. It was the greatest sign that Snape was tiring. "Are you any closer to discovering a cure?"

Remus scoffed. "The closest cure is Harry. They're getting along…"

"You're suggesting _Potter_ is his one true love?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"I think not."

Remus was used to seeing Snape with dark circles under his eyes, but he'd never seen him so vulnerable before. He was clearly being drained in every sense to avoid detection. More than once, his eyes had slipped shut and Remus had worried they wouldn't open again.

"Maybe you should sit down." He was glared at again, but it was obvious Snape saw the reasoning behind it as he moved over to the lone bed in the room and sat down on the edge. "Lying down might even be a suggestion."

"I don't need you to mother me, Lupin. Reserve that for your pup." Remus grimaced and Snape caught it. He didn't say anything though.

"Do you think you'll start a family when all this is over?"

The Potions Master scoffed. "Not a chance."

And they left it at that.

* * *

The yawn that sprung forth from Ron's mouth earned him a glare, which in turn had him chuckling and giving up halfway through it. Harry was sitting on his own bed, reading through a text filled with healing spells, yawning thanks to their contagious properties. It had lasted for a few minutes and neither could remember who started it. All Harry knew was that Ron was most certainly getting the blame for it.

"I'd stop if I could, mate," Ron chuckled, making the mistake of looking over at Harry. His shorter friend was yawning widely.

Their laughter was interrupted by a quick knock on the door.

"Come in," Harry said, looking back at the ink-covered pages.

The energy in the room changed, so Harry didn't even have to look up to know that Malfoy had entered.

"Potter?"

The usual confidence in his voice was gone, which had Harry's head snapping up. Malfoy was standing in the doorway in light robes, holding a folded towel to his chest. It was one of his fluffy white towels that was absolutely perfect. Just registering that thought had Harry rolling his eyes. How the fuck could a towel be perfect?

"What is it?"

"I…" Malfoy stopped abruptly, looking at Ron warily. "Just come with me."

Harry blinked at him stupidly and kept that look on his face right up until the point where Malfoy marched over to him to grab his wrist and start to tug.

"Come with me."

"Can't shower on your own?" Ron sneered.

Harry caught the way Malfoy's fingers twitched around his wrist. "It's okay, Ron. I was gonna head down for a shower, myself."

A flicker passed over Ron's face, but nothing else was said. Harry got up and grabbed his own towels and pyjamas, noting that Malfoy was never too far away from him.

"Let's go."

So they walked out of the room and down through to the bathroom.

It was different to both Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and the prefect's bathroom. It was a square room with stone flooring with large sinks attached to a pillar in the middle of the room and shower and toilet cubicles lining the sides.

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked as Malfoy dragged him over to a stall that already had his clean clothes out the front of it.

"I _drowned_, Potter. I just…the water…"

Harry nodded his head, instantly understanding. "It's alright. I'll be here and I'll make sure nothing bad happens."

And with that, Harry started to strip off his own clothes until he was down to his boxers and the single necklace around his neck. Malfoy did the same, but was clearly self-conscious about how much of his body he was showing. Harry understood this, too. He'd never been so undressed around anyone before. So when Malfoy covered up his chest with his arms, looking away from Harry, Harry reached into the shower cubicle and turned on the spray. He turned back to look at Malfoy, who was determined to keep his many scars away from Harry's sight, so Harry stepped up closer to the blonde as he allowed the water to heat up.

"Do you want to know the real reason why I never slept with Ginny?"

"Not particularly," Malfoy scoffed.

"I'm gonna show you, anyway."

"I'm not interested in seeing your embarrassingly small cock, Potter."

It didn't anger Harry the way Malfoy had hoped. Instead, Harry reached out and caught Malfoy's chin in his hand to turn his face towards his. "I'll have you know I'm well-endowed, Malfoy. I never slept with her because of this." He grabbed on to the left side of his boxers and pulled down low enough for Malfoy's eyes to see the thick scar there. "My uncle beat me and my aunt and my cousin-the two last blood relatives I have-sat back and let it happen, or joined in. No one else knows this and I like it that they don't know. I never did anything with Ginny because I didn't want her seeing this."

Malfoy's eyes moved from that single scar up to Harry's face. "They…?"

"Professor Dumbledore dumped me on their front step the night my parents were murdered. They never wanted me and let me know it every day of my life until I was eleven. I think they somehow thought they could beat the magic out of me-that I'd be normal if they hit or starved me enough." Harry returned his boxers to his hips, covering that white line. "My torture mightn't have been as severe as yours, but I know what it's like to be betrayed by your family…"

"She didn't want to save me," Malfoy said suddenly and bowed his head. "Snape told me. He said that he gave her a chance to save me and she didn't want to be a part of it. She abandoned me when I needed her. She thought we'd both be safe if she let him hurt me."

Everything in Harry told him to hug the damaged Slytherin, but he knew that wouldn't turn out as well as his imagination was telling him. So he grabbed his hand instead and pulled it away from his body.

"I'm here for you now."

Wet eyes turned up at him, but Malfoy didn't let the tears fall. "I think the water's hot enough now," he said, but his fingers wrapped around Harry's.

Harry nodded his head and returned to the shower, adding the cold water now. When it was just right, he looked at Malfoy and gently tugged on his hand. Malfoy started to follow him in, but stopped short of being hit by the water.

"It's okay," Harry started to say, but Malfoy stepped up closer than he and Harry had ever stood together and nuzzled at his shoulder just once. "Malfoy?"

"I'm sorry for what your uncle did." Eye contact was being avoided. "I'd kill him if I could."

Harry chuckled a little at Malfoy's words and nuzzled his shoulder back. "I'm sorry for what Voldemort did to you. And I'm going to kill him." Their eyes connected and Harry saw a small smile grace Malfoy's face. It was a rare sight and Harry found his breath catching when it registered. Malfoy truly was a beautiful creature, especially when he was as soft as he was at that moment. Harry mentally shook himself and continued to drag Malfoy into the shower with him. "Now, I'm not gonna let any monster get you."

He guided Malfoy in and was there when Malfoy needed him.

* * *

"You do realise Ron's going to want an explanation as to why I just showered with 'the enemy', right?" Harry asked as he sat down in the middle of Malfoy's bed. Malfoy crawled along beside him and reached for a text on the bedside table. It was old and leather-bound and a sign that Malfoy was doing everything he could to find a cure to the potion.

"Tell him we're secretly fucking each other."

"I don't think that'll work too well. And if we're screwing, how are you meant to find Prince Charming?"

"Princ_ess_ Charming, thank you very much."

"You're the one willing to spread the gay rumours," Harry pointed out. He swivelled around to face Malfoy, who was spread out over the bed now on his stomach, reading about a love potion of sorts.

"It'll solve your problem with the Weaselette," Malfoy pointed out, underlining something in the text.

"You can have her."

"Fuck no."

Harry chuckled and slipped down next to the blonde. "What are you doing?"

"I figure this potion has to have similar properties as love potions."

"Love potions make you fall in love, though. This doesn't," Harry said softly, folding his hands up and resting his head on them. He was looking over at Malfoy and felt his own heart crumble when Malfoy closed the book.

"Right."

"Hey," Harry objected, running a hand through Malfoy's wet hair when Malfoy lowered his forehead to the book in front of him, "don't give up. We'll figure something out."

"You've been saying that for a long time now." Malfoy turned his head so he could look at Harry. He then scoffed. "How about we just fall in love with each other? That'll work."

Harry laughed and shifted his body closer to Malfoy's. "I thought you were after a princess."

"I'm sure you would look absolutely stunning in a gown, Harriet."

Using the hand in Malfoy's hair, Harry pushing his head down playfully and was rewarded with a warm smile. "You're definitely more feminine than I am. You're all dainty and delicate and prissy."

"Bite me." Harry leant over and attached his teeth to Malfoy's upper arm. The blonde cursed and retaliated by punching Harry in the side of his ribs. "Prat."

"Git."

Harry turned onto his back and folded his arms over his chest. "Oh brilliant. I can smother you better when you're like this." Lips turned up into little smiles on both of their faces.

"You get to smother me for doing what you told me to do? That's not fair."

"You'll get over it, sweetheart."

"Maybe with your loving and caring support," Harry grinned at Malfoy. He yawned widely, barely covering his mouth with his hand in time.

"Baby's tired, huh?" Malfoy taunted. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at his companion. "Are you a virgin? I know that you didn't…with the Weaselette, but others…?"

Harry blushed and looked away. "There's been no one."

"Because of the scars?"

Malfoy reached out and traced Harry's chin and jaw, tipping his face so they were looking at each other again. "I haven't been interested…"

A small snicker came from Malfoy, but it was obviously nervous. "You're a guy, Potter. You're interested in anything remotely resembling a hole." Harry swatted him playfully.

"What about you?"

"One blow job."

"Giving?" Harry smirked, earning his own smack.

"You wish."

They fell silent again. The back of Harry's hand was propped up against Malfoy's upper arm, just over where he'd bitten him, and it was moving back and forth as if Harry wasn't even thinking about it. Malfoy didn't seem to mind.

"What-what was it like?"

"Wet," Malfoy just about grunted out. "It shouldn't have happened. We were drunk and we just started fooling around. The next thing I knew, this girl I hadn't spoke to before that night was going down on me."

"And your only impression of it was that it was wet?"

"It was hot, too."

"I bet."

"Not like that," Malfoy objected. His voice was surprisingly gentle. "Her mouth was hot. It was exactly what I expected a blow job to be. She sucked and she licked and it was nice, but I kinda wanted more."

"You'd only met her that night."

"No…not that kind of 'more'. It got a little boring and repetitive."

"Some girl sucking you off was boring?" Harry chuckled, pressing in with his knuckles a little harder for just that moment. "I almost feel sorry for her."

"I don't know. I've never talked about it before."

"You didn't go out and brag to your buddies?"

The Malfoy glare made a come-back. "Such behaviour is below a Malfoy. And I don't have 'buddies'."

"I'm sure."

"You're a git."

"And you're a prat. So you weren't happy with it, then?"

Malfoy's face softened. "Afterwards, I kept thinking that I would have done it differently if I'd been doing it, you know?"

"Not a clue," Harry admitted, laughing again. It died down quickly, though. "Have you ever thought about doing it?"

Malfoy scoffed. "No. Have you?"

"I'm not big on guys. Dicks aren't really my thing." Green eyes searched Malfoy's face. "Aren't you worried about already being kissed?"

Those words killed the mood. Malfoy instantly turned away and put some distance between him and Harry by rolling over and slipping up towards the headboard.

"You have thought about it, haven't you?"

"You should probably go to bed, Potter. You need your beauty sleep."

The defensive tone was back. It told Harry more than Malfoy's words ever would. Harry got up onto his knees and shuffled closer to Malfoy. "You're scared."

"I'm more scared about the bags under your eyes. They're hideous."

Harry fell back so he was sitting on his heels. "Why are you doing this? We were getting along and…"

"Just shut up," Malfoy snapped, still not focusing on Harry. It stung him to see Malfoy's eyes trained to the window and the night outside. "We're not friends and we're only 'getting along' because you pity me and took me in. I can do just fine without you."

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes, but decided to give Malfoy what he wanted. "Fine. I hope you remember that tomorrow, because I'll be at the wedding when you wake up." The colour disappeared from Malfoy's face, but he didn't say anything. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

And with that, Harry crawled off the bed and left the room, making sure he didn't slam the door behind him, but giving it enough force to hopefully knock some of that pride out of the blonde.

* * *

Harry slammed the door behind him before he marched over to his bed and flopped face-first into the pillows.

"How'd the shower go?" Ron chuckled from his own bed where he was reading a Quidditch magazine. "You and Malfoy had fun?"

Harry sat up then to explain. "The monster drowned him. Over and over again, he dreamt he was dying and he couldn't get the image out of his head when the water…"

"I get it. Bad flashbacks and all that."

"He really freaked out when the spray hit his face. I've never seen him like that before."

"He's alright, though? Being naked in the shower with you helped him out?" He was beginning to look like the cat that ate the canary while Harry's face burnt hot enough to boil water.

"We got down to boxers," Harry grumbled. "We weren't naked."

"Uh-huh. Well, seeing how nice you were to the door and everything, I'm guessing things didn't go so well."

A groan came from Harry's throat. "He was great in the shower. He let me help him and we talked and it was fine. But then we started _really_ talking, he changed and became the proud, bitchy Malfoy we all know and hate."

"As opposed to the kitten-loving, happy Malfoy we all adore?"

The joke was ignored. "I just mean that sometimes we can have decent conversations. He's not that bad if you don't talk about important things. But the moment you cross that line, he becomes a git all over again! He's frustrating."

By the end of Harry's rant, Ron's eyes had that Dumbledoresque twinkle to them. And that scared Harry to no end. Ron got up and moved over to Harry's side, sitting on the edge of the bed with him.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Ron…"

"Even without you dating Ginny, we still think of you as family. Nothing short of joining You-Know-Who will change that and we all know that's not gonna happen. If you have a thing for a bloke…"

"I don't."

"Not yet. If you have a thing for a bloke, we're still gonna love you. Even if that bloke _is_ Malfoy."

"Ron, seriously, I still hate him."

"On occasion, right? And when you do hate him, it's like everything in the world is bad. You keep thinking that everything would be better if you hadn't been talking at all to prevent the argument. But then you realise how _stupid_ that thought is because you'd prefer to be fighting with him than not be there with him. You're okay when it's quiet, but you love it when you can talk with him nicely. And every time he smiles at you, you feel as if your chest is about to break, but you're not sure if it's…"

"Breaking in or out," Harry finished, feeling kamikaze butterflies in his stomach. Thousands of them belted blindly at his insides.

"Remember how I always complained to you about Hermione?'

Harry could have choked on his own tongue. "I'm not in love with him."

"Yet," Ron repeated, grinning. "So, just hold out on the kisses for now."

Shaking his head, Harry denied. "That's not gonna happen."

Ron started to tease and knocked their shoulders together. "Oh, to be young and in love. Have you written his name all over your note books? Are there love hearts everywhere?" Harry shoved him off the bed with one hard push. "Have you planned your wedding yet? Where are you taking him for the honeymoon? Can I be the best man? Or is he the groom?"

"I'm going to bed," Harry grumbled, crawling under the covers fully clothed. He put his glasses on his bedside table and flipped over so his back was to Ron.

"Will you adopt? He'll need his Malfoy heir, after all. Speaking of which, who's surname are you gonna use?"

"I'll kill you."

"You'll have to take notes tomorrow. Who knows what ideas you could steal? You should really make him wear the dress, though. You're not pretty enough."

"I'm not in love with him and we're not getting married."

Ron just chuckled and Harry could hear him getting ready for bed. It wasn't until all the lights were out that Harry spoke again.

"I'm falling for him, aren't I?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, mate."

"Fuck."

* * *

"Have you taken down any notes?" Ron whispered in a snicker, leaning over so not to interrupt the ceremony. Fleur was giving her vows, speaking in English with her thick accent. "Maybe you could get Bill to write yours for you."

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione hissed from next to Ron. Ginny, who was on the other side of Hermione, craned her neck around to listen in.

"We're planning Harry's wedding to Malfoy."

"Shut up," Harry snapped, elbowing Ron in the ribs.

"Whoa, what?" Ginny asked. Her face had gone several shades darker.

And the look Hermione gave him just about froze his stomach.

"Harry showered with Malfoy last night," Ron continued happily.

"That's…"

"_Harry_!"

Harry shushed the two girls as several heads turned towards them. "You're ruining the ceremony. They've worked so hard to put this all together and you're talking all the way through it."

At least Hermione had enough grace to turn around and continue watching. Ginny, however, looked as if she'd been slapped in the face. And Ron continued to look like he was on top of the world.

"You're a prick."

"And you're a fag in love with Malfoy."

If it weren't for the playful grin on Ron's face, Harry would have been offended.

* * *

When the sun finally went down, Harry felt his stomach drop with it. It was the first time since Malfoy arrived that Harry hadn't been there for him, but the Weasleys were family and he wasn't about to leave in the middle of a wedding.

So he sat with Charlie and watched Hermione and Ron dance around the dance floor. He talked with the professors and the Aurors that were there and he even gave Ginny her one dance. He hadn't missed the way Molly watched them with such approval, but he ignored it the best he could. On such a day of joy, he didn't want to think about how badly he was disappointing his loved ones.

The saddest part was, though, came when he looked over at Remus and Tonks. They had danced a few times that night and every time, Remus clearly didn't want to be there. It was like he was being dragged along as much as Harry was and that chilled Harry to his toes.

And after the last of the speeches were done with, both Harry and Remus excused themselves and went outside.

"It was lovely," Remus said shortly after taking in a lungful of the clear air. It took a lot to fill the Great Hall, but the Weasleys managed it.

"Yes, it was," Harry agreed. The weather really was starting to get colder sooner into the night.

"Are you looking forward to the students arriving?"

"That's tomorrow, right?"

"Yes and the classes start on Monday."

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Wow. It feels so strange not being a student here." When he looked over at Remus, Harry expected to see a smile on his face, but he was instead greeted by a concerned frown. "What is it?"

Remus shook his head. "It's not something I can just…"

"Moony?"

The werewolf had few weaknesses, but Harry certainly was one of them and his massive emerald eyes had a crippling effect on him. Harry definitely didn't know this, but he still managed to get whatever he wanted from Remus.

"I don't want to marry Tonks," he said in a soft voice. "I don't want to marry her and I don't want to have this child with her."

"I know." Remus slung and arm over Harry's shoulders and dragged him in to his side. "I know you're with her because it's your duty now as the baby's father…are you sure you're the father?"

A small smile graced Remus' lips. "Yes, I'm sure."

"Well, then you're gonna have to be responsible, aren't you?"

"Yes, Dad."

Harry laughed and leant into Remus. "I know what you're going through. Except, you know, for the whole baby thing because I'm not having a baby or..." At Remus' amused look, Harry flushed. "You know what I mean. I just meant that I understand. Expectations and all that. Everyone expects me to be with Ginny, but that's not gonna happen."

"Is there someone else?"

"I-maybe," Harry grumbled. "_Maybe_. But that's between us and you're not allowed to talk to Ron about it."

"I'm guessing this _maybe_ is your princess stuck high in a tower waiting for her one true love to…"

"Only, my princess happens to be a _prince_ and someone I've always hated, so this is a little strange for me because I'm not gay and I'm not into gits like-like you know."

"Perhaps you're masochistically bisexual."

Harry shushed him almost violently. "Don't say that out loud."

"Masochistic?"

"B-bi."

Remus blinked at him. "You're more worried that people will think you're into guys? I'd be worried about the masochism, actually. It paints all sorts of different pictures that I really don't want in other people's heads…"

"I don't know, okay?"

"You don't know that you like pain or guys?"

"What? Guys, Remus," Harry hissed out.

"I mean, you do spend _a lot_ of time in the infirmary, or so I'm told."

"That's not funny."

"It would make sense," Remus continued, now smiling like he was the happiest man on Earth. "With who you are, you could completely tell people who see you topless at a beach or something that you just got those pretty scars from a dragon."

"You're nuts."

"And you'll need to know all those binding spells because of Auror training, right?"

"Is this Pick-On-Harry Day or something? Ron's got Ginny and Hermione convinced that I'm marrying Malfoy."

Remus sighed playfully. "That could work out. It would get Miss Weasley off your back for a little while. If Molly thinks you're not interested in girls, you might even stop the disappointed glances I sometimes see."

"Malfoy thinks the same thing."

"Can I give you away?"

"_Moony_!" Harry shoved the older wizard off him and moved away.

"Well, I expect Mister Malfoy would look better in the dress."

"Ron said the same thing. Not that it matters. Because I'm not going to marry Malfoy. Not now, not ever."

"Enjoy Miss Weasley, then."

The look Harry gave him was something taken straight out of the long range of glares Malfoy used.

Remus paused suddenly and looked around as if he'd caught a whiff of something.

"I'll, err, speak with you later," he said shortly and moved to leave."

"Is everything alright?" Harry asked quickly, changing the mood instantly.

"Yes. We just have a visitor."

Harry started to look around before a smile found his face. Malfoy was standing by the doors in his finest robes. Remus disappeared, leaving them alone together.

"You don't look too bad, darling," Malfoy joked as he joined Harry and Harry instantly felt bad about not being there when he woke up.

"Then you clearly didn't see me dancing, dear."

"I guess I should have said you recover from humiliation extremely well."

There was a smirk on his face that told Harry he'd seen it. Along with that smirk, though, were tiny scratches on his cheeks and one on his chin. So Harry approached him and got to healing the marks.

"Were you alright waking up?" Harry asked, standing much closer to Malfoy than he most likely should have been.

"You were appropriately replaced by a house-elf." Harry gave him a dry look. "I'm fine."

"I'm glad."

The way Malfoy's eyes flickered at him sent an army of butterflies to attack his innards. Stuff Voldemort; this boy was an effective weapon. Just about every little thing he did lately nearly had Harry's knees weak and his stomach anxiously flipping.

"Good," Malfoy finally said, stepping up closer to Harry so they were touching. "I can teach you how to properly dance now.

"Malfoy…"

"No. You were atrocious out there that you even embarrassed me." He reached out with his left hand for Harry's right.

"Hey! No! You're gonna be the girl in this if you're so keen on forcing it on me."

Malfoy kicked him in the shins but changed hands anyway.

"Fine. So you put your hand in the middle of my back. Yeah, there, and then you take the first step forwards…ow!" They both winced when Harry started with the wrong foot. "It's always the left. _Always_."

"Alright."

Once they got back and forward down, Malfoy started to look at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Lead me wherever."

"Oh, umm, right."

So then they started a box-like motion.

"And eyes up."

"I'm gonna crush your toes again," Harry objected, completely worried for the other boy on this one.

Malfoy pressed himself even closer so they were hip to hip. "No, you're not. You can feel where I am now."

Harry nervously chuckled and kept his eyes on Malfoy's.

* * *

"It is close enough to the full moon for me to catch your scent," Remus said when he found Snape in the bushes, watching Harry and Malfoy dance. He appeared far too disturbed by that sight to really care about being found. "I told you they were getting close."

"What in Salazar's name are they doing?"

"I think they're trying to convince Miss Weasley that they're in some sort of relationship so she'll stop sexually harassing Harry."

Snape rolled his eyes and finally looked at Remus.

"So Potter's harassing Draco instead?"

Remus chuckled and motioned towards the two teens, causing Snape to turn away. Malfoy had leant in completely and was now resting his head on Harry's shoulder. His hands were against Harry's chest and Harry's arms were around Malfoy's waist, just resting above his hips.

"I think it might be mutual."

However, that was followed by another exclamation of pain from Malfoy and then a yelp from Harry as Malfoy kicked him in the shin again.

"Clearly a match made in heaven."

Remus raised an eyebrow at the oddly Muggle reference. The spy was clearly exhausted. He wasn't looking any better, actually.

"Still not sleeping?"

"That is absolutely none of your business," Snape bitterly said.

The werewolf rocked back and forth. "How long have you been here, anyway?"

"Long enough."

"You overheard our conversation earlier?"

"Overhearing conversations is what's kept me alive," Snape pointed out.

Remus sighed heavily and took a moment before speaking again. "I…"

"I don't care about your 'good intentions' regarding the child and its mother."

"I wasn't going to say anything about them, actually." It gained Snape's attention. "I want to suggest we start up a casual relationship."

Snape turned sharply and Remus suddenly felt quite small. "Why?"

"Stress relief for the both of us?"

"You have a fiancée. Do her."

"She's the cause of my stress." Breathing deeply, Remus approached the taller wizard. "No strings. It'll just be two consenting adults getting what they need from each other. We can meet up every now and then, get it out of our systems and go back to what we need to do."

Surprisingly, Snape nodded his head. "Lead the way."

**

* * *

**

IT'S OVER 9000! Damn my geekiness. Super long, just as I promised. Please review?


	10. Chapter Ten: To Lie

**Can I start by apologising and offering my first-born spawn? I didn't intend for this to take so bloody long but I ended up writing a novel in two months and my older sister moved out and then I got a job with started with three weeks of full-time training so I've had no time whatsoever and then my baby sister was in an accident and there was something to do with damage to her spinal cord, but she's alright and…and…jeepers. It's been a very busy past few months (which honestly feel like a decade). But I have five chapters finished, so hopefully I can return to weekly posts. I'm making no promises, but this is what I'm planning for.**

**I'm adding in an extra chapter and a limey-moment if it's any consolation…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter ten of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: To Lie**

* * *

Harry must have checked six times before the students arrived. He'd unlock the door, soothe Malfoy and then lock the door after him. And then he'd rattle the doorhandle, just to make sure it was locked. And then he'd check to see if he still had the key around his neck.

"How many times have you done that, mate?" Ron asked when he caught Harry leaving Malfoy's room at about four in the afternoon.

"Too many times now. I just want him to be alright when the others get here, you know?" Harry tucked the key under his shirt and started to walk to the common room with Ron. "So this ought to be interesting. They'll freak out when they see him here."

"They'll freak out worse when they know what you two have been up to."

Harry pushed Ron into the wall. "We haven't been 'up to' anything."

"I saw you dancing with him!" Ron snickered. "You were slow dancing and…"

"I danced with him _once_. You danced with Hermione more times than I can remember." The redhead blushed and Harry pounced. "So what's going on between you two? Are you getting any closer?"

"It was just a dance…"

"Or four. You know, you might have a proper chance with her if you stopped watching Malfoy and me."

Ron scowled at him before his face softened. "Since when did we become such girls? All we seem to talk about is your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?"

Harry turned to glare at Ron for saying it just as they entered the common room. Both Hermione and Ginny were sitting on the lumpy couches and had apparently been in the middle of a conversation.

"So you really are dating Malfoy?" Ginny asked, glowering at him. "After all that crap you gave to me, you really are dating him?" She stood and stormed over to Harry, poking him in the chest. "You're a hypocritical bastard, you know that? And Malfoy? Malfoy, of all people? Why would you be interested in him after everything he's done? You…"

Harry's mouth went dry all of a sudden. It hit him that yes, he'd left Ginny because it wasn't safe for her to be with him and now he was, what? Falling for Malfoy? Suddenly, he started to feel stupid and unhappy with himself.

"…and now you're blanking out when I'm trying to talk to you!"

Ron stepped up. "Well, you're not really talking to him, Gin," he said sternly. "You're yelling at him."

"I can't believe you're supportive of this. It's _Malfoy_. He's our natural enemy and…"

"And if he makes Harry happy, that's good enough for me. If you loved Harry the way you're constantly going on about, you'd be supportive, too."

"So you don't love me, then?" Ginny snapped, now turning so all of her anger was on Ron. "If you loved me, you'd want me to be happy, right?"

Ron glared at her. "I believe in Harry's choices…"

"He broke my heart!"

"He had the best intentions. He's keeping you safe this way, Ginny, and you know that. The people who get close to him tend to die or get hurt pretty badly, if you haven't noticed-no offence." The last bit was aimed at Harry, who'd stopped listening a long time ago. All he could think about was how he'd be endangering Malfoy as well, just like he had for Ginny. Ron hit his arm to get his attention. "Hey. It's different with Malfoy."

"Ron…"

"No. It's different with Malfoy. Malfoy's not about to drop out of school for you. He's been neck-deep in this since he was born and that wasn't your fault. It's his parent's fault. You're not putting him in any danger. He was there to begin with. Ginny, however, can be safe."

"That's nice and comforting," Harry replied sarcastically, but it actually was. Malfoy's birth was enough to guarantee his involvement, whereas Ginny had the choice. Granted, both Ron and Hermione should have also been given that choice, but they'd been dragged into it years ago. Malfoy wasn't going to be in any more or any less danger than he was already in if they became involved.

Not like that was likely to happen, anyway. It was just some sort of crush. Hopefully. Maybe.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Harry said finally. "Malfoy and I _aren't_ dating. We're not boyfriends or anything like that. It's more important that we talk about how we're gonna handle him with the other Gryffindors when they get here tonight." He moved over to one of the armchairs and plopped himself down on it. It was only a few hours into the morning and he already felt exhausted. "We can't exactly ban the boys from going to the bathroom at night, which is when Malfoy'll do what he needs to do."

"Maybe he should just go when it's later," Ron pitched in, sitting on the couch. Ginny stomped over to the only other armchair, leaving Hermione to take a seat beside him. "I'm sure no one will be up and moving at two."

"He showers when he wakes up, which is five-sixish."

"Maybe you should get him to shower before he goes to sleep," Hermione offered. "No one should be up by then."

"It's really hard to get him to change something. I mean, it's his appearance and his personal hygiene and you know he's obsessed with those things."

"Not really," Ginny huffed, folding her arms over her chest and slumping in the chair. "You'd have to pay special attention to him…"

"Ginny," Hermione interrupted, turning to face her friend. "We get it. You're upset. Grow up and get over it."

Three jaws fell to the floor. Hermione never talked to a friend like that, so no one could quite believe that she'd just said that.

It took a while, but the next sound came from Ginny as she stood and stormed out of the common room, slamming the portrait behind her. They could hear the Fat Lady shouting at Ginny's back because of her rough conduct, but the younger woman didn't seem to stop.

"So, now that we've got three quarters of the drama out of the room, shall we talk more on how we're going to handle the others?" Both Harry and Ron just nodded their heads, more than willing to allow Hermione the lead on this one. "You need to talk to him, Harry, about changing his showering times. He can complain all he wants, but the fact is, he's likely to be hurt again if the students find him wandering around the Gryffindor Tower late at night. They won't be happy at all and they're not likely to understand."

"If I put it that way…"

"If you put it that way, he'd understand and do what he needs to do to save his own life." Harry nodded his head again. They all knew Malfoy's sense of self-preservation. "Who are we telling about him? Or is Professor McGonagall going to tell everyone? I don't think it's a good idea that she lets everyone know. The amount of angry letters will be enough to get Malfoy out of here and he can't afford to be anywhere else. I don't agree with how you're playing with him, Harry, but he needs to be here."

Harry ignored that. "I think telling the seventh year boys will be enough. They'll understand and they're the ones more likely to be out that late. He'll be careful, anyway."

"You think Seamus and Dean will be fine with this?" Ron asked, scratching at his own head. "Neville will be fine. He understands that there aren't many things worse than being tortured the way Malfoy is. But the other two…"

"I hope that by now they've learnt to trust me. Besides, he can't hurt anyone. He's wandless. All he's got is his mouth and even then, he's only lashing out because of what's happening to him. He can't hurt them, so they shouldn't hurt him."

"And since when have those two been known for their mature thinking?"

"We'll have to have a long talk with them…" Harry trailed off, realising that Ron was right. "You might want to tell Ginny not to tell anyone, as well."

Ron slipped further into the couch with annoyance. "She would tell the world, wouldn't she? It would be her perfect revenge. If the others knew he was here, they'd all go after him and we wouldn't be able to protect him. I'll talk to Mum about it. Ginny might act tough, but she's still scared of her."

"You're all still scared of her," Hermione pointed out with a small smile on her face. After the tension, it was good to throw around a smile or two. And it was contagious. Both Harry and Ron smiled at her comment, agreeing instantly.

"We do have some scary women in our lives," Harry said with a grin towards Ron while cocking his head at Hermione. She mock-pouted and leant over to flick Ron's ear when Ron nodded his head.

"I think it's time for breakfast," Ron announced and got up out of the couch.

* * *

Shacklebolt showed up just before they finished with their breakfast and whisked them off to an empty classroom when they were done. It was nothing new to them. At first, Shacklebolt and some of the other Aurors had insisted on tutoring Harry alone, but he quickly made the deal that Ron and Hermione were to join in since they would be by his side no matter where he went. In a very Slytherin-like move, Harry pointed out that they'd be right there with him without his training, which would make them vulnerable to any attack. The Aurors certainly didn't want that on their conscience, so they allowed the other two in with Harry.

Before long, Remus and Tonks joined them, and that was always a scary sight.

Harry didn't know much about childbirth and the nine months before. He wasn't aware that when a witch fell pregnant, she'd suffer differently than a pregnant Muggle. Sure, Tonks had the morning sickness and she had the cravings. She had a tiny bump forming in the middle of her previously flat tummy and she was always moody (which was enough to terrify Ron and Harry and Remus into not saying much at all), but it was the way her magic was effected that really scared them. For the first few weeks, it was fine. She could summon and conjure as well as she normally did. But once she started to show that she was pregnant, her magic got a little out of control.

The first time they saw it happen, she'd tried transfiguring the tables into cushions to pad the room. One blew up, sending wooden shards everywhere and the other shrunk so small that Harry thought it would be perfect for those action figures Dudley had when he was a child. The explosion, though, was enough for her to lose the right to do anything to the tables.

So her job in the training sessions was limited to explaining. Sometimes, Harry got the feeling that Tonks was there to be there with Remus. It was clear that her role as an Auror was over for as long as she was pregnant.

And he wasn't surprised that she was there for her fiancée. After what Remus had told him the night before at the wedding, he was sure Tonks was starting to see that Remus wasn't as interested in her as he once was.

Interestingly, though, Remus arrived after Tonks did. It was only by a few minutes, but it was enough for Harry to notice. He looked like he'd slept well, whereas Tonks clearly hadn't, despite her best attempts to cover it up. Her appearance could be explained by her morning sickness, but Remus…

Harry hadn't seen Remus after they'd talked. He'd disappeared when Malfoy appeared and that was it. Harry suddenly felt like he'd spent way too much time with Aurors that he'd notice something like that, but it got him thinking about where Remus had been that night.

And the look Tonks gave Remus told Harry that she was angry with him. Remus just shook his head at her, as if to say _not now_ and she apparently got the message.

It was clear that the Head Auror had noticed this as well, but he didn't say anything. It was just the way he looked at the couple that told Harry everything and Harry saw Shacklebolt's eyes light up when he realised Harry had seen the same thing.

So they got into it. The regular procedure was that Remus and Shacklebolt would take on the three students. For the most part, Harry was allowed to use his wand, but he was encouraged to work without it.

It was different this time. Once Remus and Tonks were done sharing their looks, the room was transformed so it had ample padding. Tonks then took them through the new spell — it was a shield of sorts that could protect against weaker attacks. After Harry, Ron and Hermione mastered it — Ron got it before Harry did, which was the first sign that something was wrong with the Boy Wonder — they got to the art of the lesson where they sparred.

Each time, though, resulted in Harry being thrown across the room. His head wasn't there, and Remus was with him. A particularly nasty stunning spell struck Harry in the chest and in his moment of weakness, Hermione landed an itching hex to Remus' left arm, forcing him to drop his wand so he could scratch at it.

Shacklebolt instantly stopped the class, glaring at both Harry and Remus. "Are you both still drunk from last night?" he snapped, quickly releasing Harry from his spell. Hermione did the same for Remus.

"Maybe a little hung-over," Remus muttered, but it was clear that he wasn't. If anything, he seemed a little sore everywhere else but where he was affected by Hermione's spell. It was like the day after a full moon where his body just aches. Harry wondered just what Remus had gotten up to.

"Where are your heads?"

"I think you might have knocked mine off," Harry admitted, feeling the strong effects of the Stunning Spell. Even though he'd been released from it, it still hurt where it hit him and from where he'd landed on his arse. He was fairly certain he was suffering from whiplash, too.

But no, Shacklebolt had been right. Harry wasn't focusing like he should have been. His mind had been stuck on Malfoy and the issue they'd deal with in the next few hours.

Either way, the Head Auror clearly wasn't happy with their answers.

"You're not learning anything Harry and you're not helping, Lupin."

Remus had the grace to blush at the fact he'd just been chastised.

"Sorry, but I've got a thousand things to focus on for tonight," Harry apologised.

"It's not like you've never seen your friends before."

"No, but tonight's the first time I'll have to stop them from killing Malfoy."

* * *

Lunchtime provided more drama for Harry in what had to have been one of the most hectic days of his life. They'd only just settled down to lunch when an unexpected visitor strolled through the front doors. Harry felt his insides twist at the sight of Scrimgeour. The lion-faced Minister was a Minister of Magic and instantly tainted in Harry's eyes. He knew he shouldn't have that bias, but he also knew that every Minister he'd met so far were nothing short of morons. They were quite infamous for their stupidity. He hoped Scrimgeour was different, but Stan Shunpike's current stay at Azkaban suggested differently.

And rather than greeting the professors who'd joined them for lunch in the Great Hall, Scrimgeour (with Percy by his side) strolled right up to Harry with a determined look on his face.

"Mister Potter," he greeted, not even bothering to acknowledge Ron and Hermione. "It is good to see you."

"Minister," Harry said politely, but not returning the sentiments. Percy didn't say anything but was trying to stare down Harry. He was ignoring Ron, who was sitting next to where Percy stood. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to understand Draco Malfoy us under your care."

Harry's insides froze in their twisted position.

"I don't know what you're doing with him or what you plan to do with him, but he's a Death Eater and should be in Azkaban."

Harry's mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish.

"He's on our side now," Hermione said softly. "He's no longer loyal to Voldemort."

"Traitors are notorious for changing their minds."

"Not all traitors change their minds because they're being tortured to insanity."

"I was made aware of the situation."

"So you know he's trapped in his nightmares?" Ron asked with a growl in his voice. He wasn't at all pleased that Percy was standing right there and he was taking it out by snapping at Scrimgeour over Malfoy.

"I was told that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had punished him for not killing Albus Dumbledore. I did not know he was so afflicted."

Hermione defended Malfoy. "But you know he's in no state to be in Azkaban. Malfoy hasn't actually killed anyone and he's been brainwashed from birth to be a Death Eater."

"Why are you protecting him? He is the _enemy_…"

"I promised him he'd be safe," Harry finally said. "I told him that he'd be free when the war was over and that I'd take care of him until he was cured of this curse."

"You can't make such a deal, Harry."

"If you want any cooperation from me regarding this war, you'll agree to my terms regarding Malfoy."

After years of practise, Scrimgeour was well-versed in not showing shock when he felt it. Now was no different, even as Ron and Hermione smirked up at him. They didn't seem at all surprised by their friend's ballsy attitude. It almost made him perturbed. But at the same time, he was oddly pleased with the way Harry was throwing his power around. He had so much of it that such a deal could work. They needed the name for support.

"I want to see him and his condition. Want to see that he's no threat before I agree to putting these children in danger."

Harry nodded his head and led the way — abandoning his meal. They got to the Tower just as Minerva finalised a password with the Fat Lady.

"Minister," she greeted but received no such courtesy. She completely ignored Percy's presence. "I didn't know you would be…"

"I am here to make a deal with Harry, Headmaster. It isn't a simple social call."

After a quick glance at Harry, Minerva nodded her head and told the Fat Lady to let them in. She stopped Ron and Hermione from following straight afterwards.

"The password is 'lemon drop' in honour of Professor Dumbledore. Scrimgeour isn't to know." Both teens agreed wholeheartedly. "Please don't leave him alone with Harry for too long." They hurried after them instantly, knowing exactly why Minerva was taking so many precautions around Scrimgeour.

Malfoy was still thrashing. Winky was taking care of him — she'd pull the blankets back up over his body after he'd kicked them off — but it was Harry's touch that calmed him down. By the time Ron and Hermione had caught up with them, Harry was already perched on the side of the bed with his hand in Malfoy's hair, absently combing through.

"What is he dreaming about?"

"How am I to know? I'm not in his head."

Scrimgeour conceded this. "Do you see this as a suitable replacement to Azkaban?"

"I think it's worse."

"And do you know how he came about this potion?"

All the warning alarms Harry had in his head went off like a smoke detector at a pyromaniac's target. Azkaban could be beaten — Sirius had managed and there have been other break-outs. This, however, was much different. Only true love could break it and it's apparently damn difficult to find when you spend so much time in the worlds of your greatest nightmares.

"I-I don't know," Harry said softly, looking down at Malfoy as he lied. He'd never wish this upon anyone. Not even Voldemort deserved it.

"Harry…"

"We found him abandoned here. For all we know, he got himself out on his own or someone broke rank to get him here. He-he told us that Voldemort had called it the Never After potion. We're researching it now…'

"And how do you know you have his loyalty?" Scrimgeour questioned.

"Not even Malfoy would choose Voldemort after this. And we're…friendly."

Percy cringed at this, as if the thought of Harry being friendly with Malfoy was a terrible taboo.

"Snape was friendly, too," Scrimgeour pointed out.

"Malfoy's not in the same league as Snape. I don't think anyone's in Snape's league."

Scrimgeour eyed the tossing boy. "You used a key to get in."

"I'm the only one who has it, other than Malfoy. You won't have to worry about him. He doesn't have his wand and if anything goes wrong, we're going to instantly accuse him. He values his life too much to do something stupid. He clearly isn't a threat to anyone, unless you count his eyes." As Harry said this, Malfoy's fingers dug into his cheeks — right near his eyes. Harry's other hand came up to move them away, holding Malfoy's hand to his chest. "And even when he's awake, he prefers to sit in here or the library, trying to find a cure."

He was aware of the glares Scrimgeour and Percy were sending him. It mustn't have looked so good from the Ministry's point of view.

Scrimgeour thought on it for a moment before glancing over Malfoy one last time. "I agree to your conditions. Mister Malfoy will be considered a free man after this war in return for your support."

"I will show support for the moves I agree with."

"Of course." And with that, Scrimgeour moved over and shook Harry's hand. Percy seemed massively affronted by it—the teens could only hope that this was because he still felt something for his family—and Hermione and Ron seemed surprised. They weren't expecting Harry to make a deal where his support was part of the bid, especially when he was doing it for Malfoy. It said a lot to Scrimgeour. Malfoy was a massive part of Harry's life apparently and he was instantly worried that the saviour of the wizarding world was falling for the enemy. As soon as that thought was processed in Scrimgeour's mind, the different scenarios started to flow, starting with the trashy gossip columns in trashy magazines, followed by the newspapers and the questions at press-conferences and official meetings. It was all a massive headache that he didn't want to go through. He decided he'd get as much information that he could elsewhere and use it when the time was right.

Having finished with their business, they left the room without saying a goodbye.

Harry fell back into the armchair, slipping off the bed, completely exhausted.

"Physical workout early in the day, no lunch, mental and emotional abuse now…this is a bad, bad day," said Harry wearily. "And then I have to break it to the others that Malfoy's here. I'm exhausted."

"Maybe you should have a nap." Hermione had barely finished her sentence when Harry's eyes slid shut and his breathing got heavy. "I didn't mean here."

Ron put a hand on her shoulder and steered her out of the room. They left the door open just by the slightest margin before heading downstairs.

"I don't think we should leave him there. He won't sleep properly in a chair," Hermione argued.

"He'll be fine."

"And I've never seen him doze off so easily in his life."

"He's been having some late nights recently." Instantly, that mother-hen gleam appeared in Hermione's eye. "A-and, you know, that lesson was gruelling. Shacklebolt _punished_ him and Lupin."

Hermione most certainly did not look happy. "I'm worried about the late nights. I'm happy that he and Malfoy are getting close, but I can't help wonder how it's effecting them. Malfoy needs love and I'm scared that Harry could be leading him on…"

"He's not," Ron objected. "If Malfoy feels anything for Harry, it's returned."

All of a sudden, Ron was returned to the conversation from before. Again, he's talking about Harry and Malfoy's relationship and it didn't make him feel as manly as he normally did. In fact, he was talking about their _feelings_ and that just left him feeling a little dirty and ill in the stomach.

Hermione was eyeing him, though. "What has he said to you?"

"Well, they're not together or anything. I was joking about the boyfriend thing. It's just…I don't think Harry would be against it. But, you know, I'm a man and we don't talk about these things."

It brought the tiniest of smiles to Hermione's face. "I understand."

* * *

Harry jolted awake when he felt the prod to the side of his ribs. He wasn't very ticklish, bit his attacker managed to hit a nerve somewhere between the bones. After blinking stupidly for a moment, his eyes focused on the blonde crouching on the ground in front of him.

"Malfoy?"

"Is it you?" Malfoy asked weakly, eyeing him scrupulously.

"Yeah." Harry coughed once to clear his throat of its sleepy tinge. "Yeah it's me. Why? Did you dream...?" Harry didn't get to finish his question as Malfoy rushed him, launching his body onto Harry's and holding on tightly.

"I-you were the monster and I could have sworn it was during the night and it tricked me, Potter. And-and you-_it_-was casting the Crucio on me and it was just like what the Dark Lord did and…"

By that point, Harry had started rocking, holding on to Malfoy just as tight, shushing him gently to calm him down.

"I'm me now. I'm here. And you know I'd never hurt you. I'm never gonna hurt you." Harry gently started to manoeuvre Malfoy around so the Slytherin was straddling him rather than awkwardly stretched over him. And Malfoy moved fluidly, willingly, letting Harry hold him while he tucked him in as close as possible. His pyjama-clad former enemy was pressed chest-to-chest with him, leaning with his head on his shoulder. Harry's hand was cupping the back of Malfoy's head and he was shushing him tenderly when Hermione popped her head into the room, thankful they'd left the door open that smidgen.

"Oh," she gasped, turning back, but her presence had already destroyed the moment.

Malfoy's head snapped up to look at her. He apologised for his behaviour and crawled off Harry.

With a sigh, Harry looked at Hermione, who had the grace to look sheepish.

"What's up?"

"I just thought you might want to know the students are arriving. The feast is about to start."

Harry nodded his head and turned his attention back to Malfoy, who was going through his wardrobe for fresh clothes. When Harry got up to follow, Hermione realised it was her time to leave. With a heavy blush on her face, she turned on her heal and left the room.

"Hey," Harry said weakly, causing Malfoy to stop. It took a few steps for Harry to reach Malfoy and when he did, he wrapped his arms around the blonde's waist from behind and let his chin rest on his shoulder. Malfoy flinched slightly, but eased into it.

"Are you alright?"

Malfoy nodded his head and one hand slipped over Harry's for a second.

"Just a bit spooked."

"I have to g to the Welcoming Feast, but if you need me for anything…"

"I'm not an invalid, Potter." There was no acidity in his voice whatsoever.

"I'm gonna tell the other guys in my dorm about you."

"Are you sure that's a smart idea? I can't imagine they'll be all that happy that you're harbouring a Death Eater."

"Ex-Death Eater that changed and now hates Voldemort."

Malfoy let out a dry, humourless chuckle. "If only the Dark Lord tortured all of his failing fans, you lot would have a much easier time."

"You're part of this 'lot'."

"I'm following you. Not them."

Harry's arms tightened around Malfoy for just a moment before he let him go. "I'll see you afterwards, okay?"

* * *

By the time Harry showered and dressed, the Sorting was over. Only a handful of people noticed his belated entrance but Harry was more concerned with how empty the Hall was. It seemed as if only a few students had enrolled and even fewer had returned. He slipped into place at the Gryffindor next to Ron and opposite Ginny. Hermione was beside the youngest Weasley, who wasn't interested in any conversation with the Golden Trio at all. She had her face turned away so she could talk with Neville and another girl in her year level. The Gryffindors turned to him and said their hellos as he tucked into the food in front of him but the coldness coming from the redhead was clear.

It didn't take long for Dean to turn to him with a raised eyebrow. "What's up with that?" he asked, scooping up a slice of strawberry shortcake onto his plate.

"It's a bit early for a blizzard," Seamus added. "I didn't think I've ever seen her be so cold to you."

"That's what happens when you break a girl's heart," Ron said with a wide grin.

"As if you're the professional at heart-breaking," Dean scoffed, destroying Ron's pleased look.

"So you broke up with her?" Seamus asked.

"I did last year, but she's only just realising how serious I am now."

"Did you two fight or something?"

"Because I kinda find it hard to believe this is a 'she didn't put out' type thing," Dean snickered before he was hit in the head with bread bun.

"That's my sister, fuckhead." The flying piece of pastry caught the attention of the others, but they just smiled and motioned that they should continue with their own conversations.

"I'm just saying. It took a month before we…"

"I don't want to hear this."

"And besides, it had nothing to do with that," Harry claimed in an attempt to stop the quarrel.

"So you two…?" Seamus was reaching for any gossip. Lavender and Padma would pay him handsomely for it.

"No."

The two other boys blinked stupidly at him.

"She was willing and you didn't go for it?"

They put their heads together for a moment.

"We know for certain that he's _healthy_. We've heard him tossing off in bed enough times to be sure." Harry blushed and Ron looked at him sheepishly, confirming it.

"And he's into girls, right? She wasn't just a beard."

"Maybe he wanted to be respectful towards the Weasleys since they're practically family?"

Seamus gasped as if he'd figured it out. "He couldn't get it up for her because she's too much like family."

"You two are disturbed," Harry finally sighed. "We broke up because it's not safe for her to be with me and I've realised that we're…"

"We've moved n from the break-up, Harry. It's more important we know why you never slept with her."

"You'd have enjoyed it, mate," Dean added, but flinched when Ron glared at him.

"It doesn't matter," Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to."

"And you're not getting back with her?"

"We're through completely."

"Is there someone else?"

A fine blush graced Harry's cheeks again when he instantly thought of Malfoy. "No. Maybe." He caught the almost-proud grin on Ron's face and blushed even harder.

"Oh really? Who is she?"

"I-um, I don't really want to jinx anything, you know?" Harry stirred at the food on his plate, realising he hadn't eaten much. "It's complicated at the moment and I don't know how it's really…" he trailed off when he saw Dean watching Ginny. "Anyway, she's single now."

"How complicated can it be? You're the great Harry Potter. Any girl should be into you," Seamus said with a chuckle.

"Maybe that's the complicated part. If it's too crazy for Ginny, who's known me for years, maybe it'll be too much for this person. I don't know. It's all jumbled."

"Whatever," Dean finally conceded, going back to his dinner.

Harry was left to think about how he'd break the news about Malfoy from that point on.

* * *

When they moved up to the Gryffindor Tower, Harry was the final one to enter the room and it was then that he decided that broach the topic of Malfoy. "Umm, guys," Harry said, standing so he could see all of them. "I've got something massive to tell you all." They stopped what they were doing, knowing that when Harry had an announcement, it was normally quite serious. "The papers are telling everyone that Malfoy's missing, right?"

"Dear Merlin, they've caught him?" Dean asked instantly. "You guys are quick. He was only broken out of Azkaban…"

"Not that Malfoy," Harry coughed, but took note of how he hadn't been told about Lucius Malfoy's departure from Azkaban.

"Draco Malfoy?"

"We've got him."

"The Ministry has him?" asked Seamus, seeming quite hopeful.

"Not quite. He was dumped here a few weeks ago and he's been staying here since.

None of the boys were happy about that. Both Seamus and Dean started to yell, pointing at Harry and saying things he didn't want to hear. _Insane_ was a commonly used word.

Neville sat on his bed, silently, but Harry could tell he was angry by the way he clenched his fists over his knees.

"Guys," Harry tried, but got no reaction. Upon seeing his second failed attempt, Ron whipped out his wand and silenced the two of them. "Thanks."

They turned their glaring eyes at Ron and both he and Harry could lip-read the vulgar insults they were spitting at the redhead, but when Ron ordered them to sit down and shut up, they did.

"I know this is a big shock. We were all surprised by it as well. The thing is, though, Malfoy's been cursed by Voldemort and he wouldn't make it a night in Azkaban."

"In fact, he's worse off now than if he would be taken in by the Aurors," Ron added, showing his support for Harry. "He was forced to drink this potion that knocks him out during the day and gives him these horrible nightmares. It's driving him crazy because he's dying and being tortured over and over again and only love's first kiss can bring him out of it. Which'll never happen because he's Malfoy and he's a git."

"He's also defected and told us where Voldemort occasionally stays. This is how Voldemort punished him for not succeeding in killing Dumbledore. He doesn't want anything to do with the war."

"At first, I thought he was getting what he deserved," Ron admitted and Harry glared at Dean and Seamus when they nodded their heads. "But, everyone's who's been cursed by this go so crazy they kill themselves just to escape the nightmares. And even Scrimgeour's popped in and said it was alright. He was here earlier."

"So, explain this potion," Neville breathed.

Harry and Ron told them everything they knew about it, including some of Malfoy's nightmares in detail. "He's awake now?"

"Yes. But he's not gonna try anything. He doesn't have his wand and he's way too much of a pansy to do anything when we're all armed…"

"And he's Harry's friend now and we don't attack our friend's friends, now do we?" Ron said quickly.

Seamus and Dean looked outraged.

"He's not as bad when he's halfway over the rainbow."

Ron snorted. "Rainbow? Could you get any gayer?"

"Where is he now?" Neville questioned. He was obviously the acting voice of reason.

"He's in his room down the hall. We're not telling anyone else about him because the parents would flip out. And before you go get revenge, his room is locked and no spell you guys know will open it up. He's gonna stay out everyone's way. We just felt you guys needed to know."

"So you can be utter gits about this, or you can help make best of the worst situation imaginable," Ron concluded.

Dean and Seamus caved in and settled down.

* * *

Malfoy was eating his breakfast in his bed when Harry entered the room.

"Evening," Malfoy greeted him, barely looking up from the paper he had spread across his lap. He had a bowl of muesli cradled against his chest as he read.

"You probably shouldn't…" Harry started, but he knew it was hopeless. Malfoy had to have known by now that his father was out of Azkaban. Harry sighed and his shoulders started to sag. His weariness was returning with a vengeance. He ran a hand down his face before he moved forward and knelt on the bed, shuffling closer to Malfoy's side. "You're going to grow to the size of an elephant if you don't get out of bed."

"I'm sure there's a lot of exercise you can do in a bed." Malfoy didn't even flinch when Harry got under the covers and claimed one of his pillows for himself.

"It's just finding the volunteer that's causing us problems," Harry yawned.

With a smirk, Malfoy turned to look at him. "Who said these exercises require other people?" Harry snickered at that, causing Malfoy's face to burn bright. "I didn't mean…"

"Uh-huh. At least you can't make out with yourself, I guess. Imagine that: getting love's first kiss from yourself."

"I'm not that self-centred," Malfoy waved off. He then looked down at Harry, placing his bowl on the newspaper. "What are you doing in my bed, anyway?"

"I'm exhausted. Scrimgeour came around and tried to take you away and I had to convince him not to. I had to show him that you weren't a threat and then I had to deal with the other guys in my room and there was training this morning and…"

It was Malfoy's hand on his forehead that had him shutting up. "Go to sleep, then. I'll grill you about why you haven't told me anything about my father later."

Harry groaned and turned his head into the pillow, but Malfoy's hand just followed and started to move through his hair like Harry's normally did when Malfoy was sleeping. It was soothing and his fingers were gentle and before Harry knew it, his eyes were drooping. Malfoy removed his glasses — Harry wasn't sure where the blonde was putting them.

"Sleep well."

The words were barely acknowledged as Harry dozed off.

* * *

**Please review…I think much of my writing's changed in the past few months and I'm worried it's gotten worse rather than better…**


	11. Chapter Eleven: To Run

**So just a warning: This chapter begins with a Snape/Lupin limey moment. I know not everyone reading this is supportive of that, so I figured you might appreciate the warning.**

**Thanks for the support regarding my self-consciousness towards my writing.**

**Tarklovishki: I completely understand. I actually gave up my end-of-year-twelve celebrations four years ago to get my C Badge in umpiring. I miss umpiring the juniors…**

**ixamxeverywhere: No beta. Only me.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter eleven of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: To Run**

* * *

It was humiliating to let out such a high, needy mewl, but after a few nights with Snape, Remus realised he didn't care. The Potions Master was strangely talented with his mouth and had no issue with showing Remus this over and over again. Pressed with his shoulders and upper back against the bed with his lower body tilted up towards the ceiling, Remus shuddered with pleasure, feeling his manhood jerk against his stomach, as Snape probed him with his tongue. When Snape had started his descent down Remus' torso, he never thought he'd end up licking at the small pucker of his entrance. As Snape slipped in a finger beside his tongue, Remus threw his head back and clamped down with his legs, tightening his hold he had on Snape's shoulders.

Snape winced. Remus wasn't that far gone that he didn't notice it. No, he'd felt the way Snape tensed.

"S-stop," Remus said softly, realising he'd actually hurt the former professor. It took much coaxing to get Snape to stop as he insisted that nothing was wrong, but he finally gave in. "Let me have a look."

"It's a scratch…"

"They always say that."

"Who's 'they'?" Snape got out as Remus sat up and physically turned him around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back towards the werewolf.

"The reluctant heroes."

Without seeing the other man's face, Remus just knew that Snape had rolled his eyes at him.

What Snape called a scratch, Remus deduced, was what others deemed a deep gash. "Severus, that's…" The wound stretched from the top of his left shoulder down to his mid-back, crossing over his spine. "That's not a scratch."

"It's healing."

"Not as well as you think it is." Remus moved around him and grabbed his clothes so he could get dressed.

"Lupin," Snape objected, reaching out to grab Remus' arm to stop him. "I'll be fine."

"I need to get you some dressings and salves and anything else that'll help."

Snape groaned and slipped onto the edge of the bed, sitting, and tugging on Remus' arm, forcing Remus to bend close to him so he could kiss him.

Instantly, Remus pulled away, despite the hand that Snape had slipped into his hair to keep him still. "You're not going to distract me. Get some pants on. I won't be gone for too long."

* * *

"Four of a kind," Malfoy smirked, putting his cards down. After Harry did the same, groaning at his mere two of a kind, his smirk transformed into a grin. "You do realise that seven and two is the worst poker combination ever, right?"

"How can you possibly know so much about a Muggle card game?"

"I'm adept at most forms of gambling. Slytherins get bored."

"At least we're not actually using money. I'd lose everything my parents left me." Harry knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment it left his mouth. "I meant…"

"I agree. I'd clean you out and actually have money of my own," Malfoy said, but the happiness he had held earlier was gone.

"I…"

Harry's words were cut off when Malfoy reached forward and ran his fingers over the back of Harry's hand. "It's fine. We both know that when I do get my kiss, it'll be with someone who's got a few vaults at Gringotts that's filled with gold. Malfoys know how to pick rich brides, after all." He retracted his hand and picked up the cards, shuffling them together. "Another round?"

Harry had to cough to clear his throat. Something had gotten caught in it…

"Yeah, sure."

It was all he could get out, strangely enough.

"What time is it, anyway? You're normally in bed now." Harry pulled out wand. "Do it without your wand."

The way Malfoy ordered it of him brought Harry back to reality. "Why don't you give it a try?"

"I haven't taken the lessons you have. I would if I knew what I was doing."

So Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the _tempus_ charm. He thought of what it was like to cast it with a wand and held on to the sensation of it. The image of the spell was clear in his mind. The feeling; the result.

"It's a bit late for you," Malfoy finally said, making Harry realise he'd successfully cast the spell.

Harry opened his eyes and looked around him, finding the digits hovering in the sky. "Merlin. It's a quarter to three. How am I not exhausted?" He flopped onto the mattress beside Malfoy's hip. "I must be used to it now."

Malfoy reached down and quickly brushed a hand through Harry's hair. "Well, you're not sleeping here again. Who knows what rumours your roommates are spreading? I need a woman to love and it's not going to happen if every other person believes I'm bent."

"…I've only slept here a few times."

"Three times in the past five nights, Potter. You have your own bed."

"Yours is more comfortable."

"I'm well aware of this fact."

"Then you can understand why I don't mind sleeping here." Harry reached up and poked Malfoy in his tummy. "Besides, you always let me stay here, no matter how much you complain."

"Not this time," Malfoy argued, rolling away from Harry so he could stand up. "Off to your own bed, Potter." When Harry didn't move, Malfoy started to push him by his shoulders, forcing him to roll over to the other side of the bed until he was hanging off the edge of it.

"Malfoy…" The laughter in his voice wasn't hidden by his attempt to sound indignant. Malfoy crawled onto the bed and lean over and push him off completely. "No! Shit!"

Grabbing for something to keep him on, Harry's hands tangled in the blankets, only to drag them down with him as he landed on the floor with a dull thunk.

"Elegant."

"Bite me."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow before he stretched out on his front, watching Harry closely. Harry wasn't entirely certain as to why he blushed at Malfoy's attention, so he tugged harder on the blankets and curled up with them on the carpet.

"Hey. You can't very well sleep on my floor, either." Groaning with the exertion of it all, Malfoy reached over and started poking Harry. "Oi. Get up."

Instead, Harry grabbed his arm and yanked on it, bringing Malfoy down with him. The blonde yelped and was dragged over Harry's body. Harry turned and incorporated Malfoy into his blanket collection, using his arms to wrap Malfoy around him.

"You're a git," Malfoy told him, but didn't stop him. They were curled up together, with Malfoy's chest against Harry's back and his legs tucked up under his thighs and knees. Malfoy didn't appear to mind at all when Harry's hand latched onto his wrist and brought it around his waist. "I better not be bruised." Malfoy's other arm slipped under Harry's head and the soft muscle worked as a pillow.

"Oh, bubby," Harry chuckled. Malfoy genuinely surprised them by grabbing his hand and threading their fingers together. "Do you really think you can be so cuddly after you literally pushed me out of the bed?"

"You'll get over it." Harry yawned now, tucking his head into Malfoy's left arm. "You can't very well fall asleep in my arms on my floor." Malfoy was chuckling, nuzzling into the back of Harry's neck to rouse him. "Get up. Come on."

"I'm tired now. Let me sleep."

"I'm finding it beyond creepy that you're cuddling into the Dark Mark, Potter."

Harry jumped suddenly, then, realising that yes, his cheek had been pressed up against the tattoo on Malfoy's arm. Sitting, looking down at Malfoy, he looked at where their hands were still twined together. Malfoy's eyes followed his and his fingers just tightened around his own before he pulled them away. "I need you to go to your own bed," Malfoy said with a serious tone to his voice. He turned away and got up onto the bed.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"It…" He ran a hand through his hair — that same hand that he'd had in Harry's hand — and Harry could see he was trying his hardest not to pout. "It's not fair to either of us. I need to find someone I can love, Harry, and they need to love me just as much in return and what we're doing isn't fair."

Harry slowly nodded his head, swivelling around so he was sitting on the floor facing Malfoy with his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms around his shins. "I don't think it's not that unfair."

"Yes, you can say that because you're not cursed. Doesn't it bother you? We're like _this_ but we're not…"

"Do you _have_ to fall in love with a girl?"

Malfoy's breath hitched. He hadn't expected Harry to ask him something like that, and (to be completely honest) Harry hadn't intentionally said it. The words had spilled from his mouth before he could stop them.

"Malfoy…I…"

The blonde turned to face Harry, to look him in the eye, so he could continue. "No. Can you sit there and tell me that you're going to, or already do, love me? Is that what you're saying?"

"I didn't mean to say it…"

Harry nearly bit his tongue when he saw Malfoy's face harden. He hadn't looked at him like that for weeks now and Harry felt everything he and the Slytherin had worked so hard to achieve was suddenly gone.

"You should sleep in your own bed tonight."

This time, Harry didn't argue it and stood.

* * *

Remus wasn't a healer and it showed. Grumbling, Snape rummaged through the various salves and potions the werewolf had taken from the medical wing and quickly learnt that not only was he _not_ a physician, but he didn't know the basics behind treating a magical gash.

His enthusiasm, though, just about made up for his lack of knowledge. Snape had no idea how Remus had grabbed so many vials out of the medical wing without raising alarm. He supposed knocking Poppy out was the likeliest of scenarios based on the effectiveness of his burgle, but Snape doubted Remus would have done something like that.

It was more likely that Remus already had this vast collection in his possession thanks to the lack of violence needed in producing it so quickly and easily. But that had Snape wondering how many injuries Remus truly sustained when he was transformed. He knew that it was painful and left him aching for days afterwards, but he never would have guessed that the werewolf needed so many remedies.

The next thing he questioned was if Remus had an issue with self-medicating, but that thought was quickly thrown from his brain. Of course the _Gryffindor_ didn't have an addiction.

When Snape realised that Remus was staring at him expectantly, he grabbed a random vile and unstopped it, lifting it up to take a whiff of it. The resulting grimace had Remus flushing with embarrassment.

"That's not for me," Remus realised, reaching out to take it from Snape's hand. "Tonks is worried about getting…"

"Stretch marks," Snape finished, knowing exactly what that salve was for with just one smell of it. It was a relatively easy potion to brew and salons paid several Galleons for crates of the stuff. Many of his bills were paid by him being a supplier of medicinal and cosmetic potions and creams during the unpaid holidays.

Nevertheless, it proved that Remus had taken these from his own personal supply, along with that of his Auror fiancée.

"Are any of them useful?" Snape's hands were skittering over the difference shaped bottles, trying to find out. Remus leant forward and picked up a blue bottle. "I use this when I get cuts."

Snape was already shaking his head, taking in the colour of the liquid inside it. "That only works on cuts made by physical weapons. I'm after something for magical…" He left the sentence hanging as he unscrewed a thin tub to find a green cream inside. "This is it."

Remus stopped him when he saw the long, ingredient-stained fingers moving to dip in, grabbing those fingers with his own and pulling them away. "Let me. I'll have a better view."

There wasn't even a faked moment of reluctance as Snape turned swiftly, sweeping his hair away from that shoulder and over the other so Remus could tend to his wound without being bothered by the long strands.

"Rub it along the edges. It'll cleanse and seal at the same time."

The first touch was cold on his skin, but Remus quickly had it warming up, rubbing it in over the seams of Snape's injury. The salve worked instantly, bringing the skin together like there was a thread pulling the lips shut until a small scab was all that was left of an injury Remus once thought was deep.

"That's…impressive."

"Auror grade," Snape replied, swivelling again to pull the tub from Remus' hands to replace it into the bag he'd brought the several containers in with. He tried to resume kissing the werewolf, but Remus' hands quickly batted him away again.

"Who did that, anyway? It's not like we had a raid."

"What does it matter?"

Remus knew that the question was meant to kick him out of his prying habits so they could keep their 'relationship' as something that wasn't personal.

"I just need to know."

"I didn't realise I was fucking my mother."

Surprised, Remus blinked at the Potions Master, wondering what the attitude was about. Sure, they weren't meant to be close, but that didn't mean that Snape had to be so brash. He was harsh, not vulgar.

It would have been all too easy (and justified) for Remus to respond the same way, but he took a deep breath and tried to be calm. "I think that as someone who's fighting in this war, I deserve to know who's fighting against whom. No one reported seeing you…"

"And no one in the Order keeps secrets," Snape sarcastically drawled, already reaching for his shirt. That didn't come as much of a shock. Distance was something Snape was good at and the moment Remus started to get too deep, he was more than willing to get out of there. He agreed to something casual, not meaningful.

"No, you're right." Indeed — their situation was more than proof of that. "But someone would have said something about hexing you. So what happened? The Death Eaters found you?"

The white shirt (which hadn't been unbuttoned in their earlier rush) was thrown over Snape's head and his shoulders, gaping and stained with blood where he'd been cut. He was on his feet a moment later, finding his robes on the floor and dressing with simple movements.

"They were bound to, sooner or later."

"They wouldn't have if you'd kept your head down." Remus moved to the edge of the bed, looking up at his occasional 'lover'. "So what's so important that's making you act like an idiot?"

Snape smoothed down the wrinkles on his clothes and turned away. Remus sighed and followed him, pushing himself into the taller wizard's personal space. He could see the way Snape's lips were tightly drawn together, showing his determination not to say anything.

"It's dangerous, is it?" If getting the truth out with a straightforward answer wasn't going to work, Remus had every intention of nagging it out of him. Of course, that was never a clever idea when facing Severus Snape…he had to keep his eyes on Snape's hand to make sure he wasn't going to reach for his wand to hex him. "Of course it's dangerous. But I can't understand why you're not telling me. Is there anything I can help with it?"

All the while, he was worming his way around Snape's body, pressing up against him with every step Snape took to get away from him, until he'd somehow managed to trap Snape into a corner. Maybe they were just close enough to the full moon for Remus to have some sort of strength that Snape wasn't going to challenge.

"No, you can't. This isn't even meant to be my task."

Remus stepped in closer, moving so they were chest to chest. A hand came up to smother one of the persistent wrinkles on Snape's chest. Fingers splayed across the material and tips dug in to worry at a stubborn crease. It wasn't long before he started to trail down Snape's front, slipping through the folds of his robes. Snape's hands moved to Remus' hips, where he held on as they both watched Remus' fingers undo the fly of his slacks and slip inside.

"You'll be careful, won't you?" Remus asked, leaning forward to nip at the spy's neck.

Snape's answer was to let his head fall back against the wall, letting out a long breath as Remus' hand started to move.

* * *

Apparently not moving as quietly as he had hoped, Harry soon heard Ron rustling, waking, as he got into his pyjamas. They quickly made eye contact and Ron sat up, clearly intending to say something.

"What?" It was sour.

"You're back early. I haven't seen you drop by this long before sunrise in a while. You two have a domestic?"

Harry rolled his eyes and propped up his pillows, sliding under the covers after that. "I wouldn't call it a fight. He just kicked me out."

The taller Gryffindor raised an eyebrow and drew his knees up to his chest, throwing an arm around them. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's Malfoy and a natural-born git?" Dean suggested with little more than a grumble and turned so he was facing away from the chatting duo. "Using a silencing charm would be greatly appreciated. Some of us have tests tomorrow."

A grunt came from Neville's direction — he agreed, but he was too tired to wake and say something legible about it.

Ron rolled his eyes and grabbed for his wand, making it so he and Harry wouldn't bother the others.

"There isn't really much more to it," Harry sighed, curling up on his side so he could see Ron. "We were talking and then we realised how late it was and then he was telling me that I wasn't allowed to sleep there and he kicked me out." He shrugged his shoulders and pulled his glasses off his face so he could set them on the bedside table. A yawn followed that and Harry pulled the blankets up to his chin. It was starting to get a bit colder now as they got closer to the end of the year.

"He didn't want your ever-loving company?"

"You didn't have to put it that way."

Ron was shrugging his shoulders this time. "It's not a lie, though, is it? You and him have something going on."

"That's why he kicked me out. He thinks it's not fair to him because we're _not_ together."

"Do you want to be with him?"

"I'm really tired," Harry said, backing it up with another yawn. When he lowered the Silencing Charm, Ron knew it was the end of the conversation.

* * *

Just looking in on the Slytherin hurt a little. It was a dull sort of ache that reminded Harry that all that they were boiled down to that moment last night when they realised that they had to be in love or not close at all. He leant his head against the door jam and he felt every particle of his body _crave_ for Malfoy — he should be there, by his side, helping him through his nightmare, but his brain kicked in just as he pushed himself up and forced him to walk away.

Harry closed the door behind him and tucked the key back under his shirt in time to see Ron come out of their dorm room, fiddling with the back of his trainers, telling Harry that he hadn't bothered to untie them the last time he removed them. That, at least, brought a smile to his face.

"What?" Ron asked, taking in his happy expression. "Did you just kiss him?"

The grin disappeared and Harry's eyes darted around them. Firstly, he didn't want the other students to know that they were keeping a wanted fugitive on the same floor as them. Secondly, he didn't want them thinking he was gay or anything. Malfoy was just special.

Ron must have realised this and sighed. "It's second period, mate. They're all in class. So did you kiss him or not?"

"Not," Harry grumped and moved down the hallway, deliberately passing Ron, not making eye-contact, as he headed down towards the common room.

The redhead didn't let up, though. "Why not? The fight last night had you really upset, so it's not like you don't have actual feelings for him."

"Ron," Harry hissed, turning quickly to glare at him.

"What? You don't want people knowing you're into guys?"

"Not plural. Only him."

Ron shrugged his shoulders and followed Harry down the stairs. "So you're letting him go insane because you're scared people will know you're into _one_ guy."

It wasn't a question and Ron's voice was getting louder as they got closer to the common room, so Harry didn't respond. He wasn't right, and Merlin, it sounded bad when put like that, but Harry didn't want to have this conversation around others. He'd yet to decide if he was thankful or not that it was only Hermione who was downstairs.

"Harry, you could stop his nightmares."

Hermione's head turned to them sharply, ignoring the thick book in her lap.

"And then what?" Harry snapped, spinning around to face Ron. "And then we go on being Harry Potter, the Chosen One and Draco Malfoy, the son of Voldemort's fuck-toy? This curse doesn't rely on puppy-love, Ron. It needs true love — the type of love that's forever. How can I possibly kiss him and wake him up knowing that I'll never be able to marry him or have children with him? Two men can't do those things. And then, if I were to be in a childless relationship with him, I'd lose the family I already have. Can you imagine him sitting down for dinner with your family — of your mother even permitting him in the _house_?" He was getting louder as he continued. "The media would have a field-day of it and for all we know, Scrimgeour will charge him anyway. If and when he's free from these nightmares, he'll probably be sent to Azkaban anyway, so I'll be forced to watch as my one-true-love wilts to death in there. _And_, if we're completely honest, I'm not even sure if I love him or if he loves me or if it's him settling for the _only_ person who'll talk to him. How will I know for sure and what happens if he's kissed before then? What if I kiss him now, wrongly mistaking this crush for love? Will it make it worse or will it have no effect at all? I've got all these questions running through my head and that's why I haven't kissed him yet."

By the time Harry had finished, his hands were clenched nervously and he did honestly feel a little better that he'd gotten it out of his system, but Hermione was standing, looking concerned, and Ron might have been grinning a little. "What now?"

"Men _can_ get married in the wizarding world, Harry. Flint's parents were both women. He was adopted."

"That's probably the least important issue."

"No, what's important is that the bloke you _love_ needs you to be his Prince Charming and you're not manning up."

There was nothing Harry could say to that. Having won the argument, Ron called for Dobby and their breakfast. Dobby instantly appeared and overed the coffee table to toast and spreads and juice and sausages.

Without even a 'thank you' in Dobby's direction, Ron planted himself on the armchair and started up a plate.

"You shouldn't expect so much from him," Hermione chided, sitting back down on the couch.

"If Harry cares about Malfoy so much…"

"I'm not talking about Harry. You didn't thank Dobby, who's taken time out of his busy day to serve you."

Harry's jaw fell open.

Ron caved. "Thank you, Dobby." It was said with a mouthful of bacon. The house-elf appreciated it the way he always did and bowed before leaving.

"Oh, come have breakfast, Harry," said Hermione, reaching for the jug of pumpkin juice.

Harry lowered his head and did what he was told, sliding onto the couch beside Hermione and snatching up a piece of toast so he could numbly chomp on it. He had his reasons for not having yet kissed Malfoy and they were damn good reasons. They had no way of knowing for sure that yes, he and Malfoy were in love and it was true. Kissing him now could just make it worse.

With that mental reassurance, Harry tried to get involved in the conversation, only to get distracted by the book Hermione had brought with her. It sat between them, open, showing colour-illustrations of what appeared to be Rowena Ravenclaw's greatest possessions. There was a sceptre, a gown made of unicorn hair, a headdress and an enchanted quill.

"Do you think the Horcrux could be one of these?" Harry asked, shoving the last two bites of his toast into his mouth so both his hands were free to pick up the thick tome and drag it onto his lap.

"Besides her daughter, these were what Ravenclaw treasured the most. If Voldemort could have, he probably would have gone back in time to turn the poor girl into a Horcrux herself."

"You have no idea how badly I hope you haven't just jinxed that."

"Don't be silly. Now, I've tracked down the dress. Some French wizarding princess got married in it two years ago. Before that…"

"There are magical princesses?"

"Do you really think this 'true love's first kiss' predicament is the only piece of 'fairytale' truth? Some countries have entire royal families."

"How come I didn't know about this wedding, then? It would have been pretty important, right?"

"What were you doing by the summer of your fifteenth birthday?" Ron asked and it clicked in Harry's mind. He wasn't pricy to the news thanks to a sudden stop of the mail delivery service to Privet Drive.

"Oh."

"As far as I can tell, Aurora, of 'Sleeping Beauty' legend, was actually a Nigerian prince who'd not actually pricked his finger but was forced into drinking the Never After by Maleficent. The Grimm Brothers and Disney changed it into the story of a white princess because it suited them better. Now, as I was saying, the dress has been passed around from royal family to royal family, proving to be quite the good luck charm for them. I don't think it's the dress, though."

"He wouldn't have had a chance to get near it if it's been passed around like that," Harry agreed.

"During the years Voldemort was making the Horcruxes, it was in Asia, predominantly. There's been no reason for us to assume he's been there."

"Besides, a sceptre or a crown seems to be much more his style."

"Yes. I haven't heard much about the diadem, but I do know that Ravenclaw would use the sceptre to swear in the new Head of House, prefects and Head Boys and Girls if they were from Ravenclaw."

"It's a sign of power. That's exactly what he'd be after. Do you know where it is or where it's been off to?"

"It's still with the house of Ravenclaw."

"As in, within her family or conveniently right here under our noses?" Ron asked.

"Professor Flitwick has it in his office, according to some of the girls. Terry Boot was bragging about how many times Flitwick's had to use it on him."

Harry could have rolled his eyes. Boot had been made Head Boy this year and he'd been quite vocal about it. They hadn't even crossed paths, but Harry was aware of his bragging. The other boys often complained about him and the way he showed off his badge. The Ravenclaw apparently learnt a polishing spell that he used whenever he thought he wasn't receiving enough attention.

"We've got a problem, though," Hermione sighed, bringing down the mood considerably. "If it's been used so liberally for all these years, how hasn't something bad happened? Everything Voldemort's created as a Horcrux is dangerous."

"It's also so easy to get to that it's not funny," Harry groaned.

"It's still worth a look, though, right?" Ron asked, hoping to lift their spirits. "We can't be sure until we've checked everything."

* * *

Hermione had a right to be negative. After looking at it and casting a few spells on it (with Professor Flitwick's permission, of course), they concluded that they'd been wrong. The sceptre wasn't a Horcrux.

That, of course, led them to pursuing the crown, which they lost track of easily, before they started to look for the quill. Three days later, they had nothing to go on, which was when Malfoy found them, sitting in a puddle of distress, across the couches of the common room, books open and hopes dashed.

Harry hadn't looked in on Malfoy for three days. He hadn't popped his head in to see how bad the nightmares were and he hadn't joined him at night.

Ron was the one to notice him when he came down the stairs to the room.

"Malfoy," he said, sitting up straight, catching everyone's attention.

Harry's head snapped up to look at the blonde, who was standing in a pair of sweat pants and a loose jumper, clearly ready for exercise. Malfoy was looking at them, clearly having not expected them to be there before he got over the shock and sat down on the last step, doing up his trainers.

"Hey," Harry breathed, standing awkwardly and making his way over to the Slytherin. "What are you doing out so early?"

Malfoy's eyes didn't leave his shoes as he looped the laces. "It's actually just past one. I expected you lot to be in bed."

"We're, err, busy." There was no response as Malfoy switched feet. "You're going out running?"

"I'm not going to sit around and let myself go just because I'm going crazy."

Harry could feel the disapproving glare Ron was sending to the back of his head. He could also feel the need to tell Malfoy that he way he looked was absolutely perfect, but he smothered it, knowing that saying something like that would get him in trouble.

"It's cold out."

"The dungeons, where I used to sleep, used to be pretty cold, too. And I'm sure you had some early morning trainings, just like I did."

"Yeah, but that was with thick robes. Are you going to be warm enough wearing…?"

"I'll be fine." Malfoy finished with the double knot and stood. He mustn't have realised that Harry had moved so closely to him because he seemed surprised by their sudden proximity. His eyes widened and, for a moment, Harry could have sworn his breathing got harder. "The-the cold is the least of my worries."

A breath got stuck in Harry's throat and he stopped himself from reaching out to hold the boy he had such a strange relationship with. "You're planning a wedding with Prince Benicio?" Malfoy asked suddenly, now eyeing the open book that showed Ravenclaw's possessions.

"Hmm? Prince Benicio?"

"He's the Italian prince and the only royal at the moment worth marrying." His tone was dry and bored, as if a royal wedding was something he was used to. "That's what that dress is used for."

"No. We're kind of looking for these things. It's a…thing we're doing…" Harry's throat tightened as Malfoy moved around him to pick up the book. His eyes didn't even glance up at Ron and Hermione, who'd started to back away.

"The dress is in Germany, where it's getting repaired after it was stolen at the French wedding — the newspapers haven't said anything about it, but we all know. The sceptre's in Flitwick's office. The quill is used here as the quill that writes the Hogwarts acceptance letters and the diadem…that went missing for generations."

Harry groaned and slouched against the back of the couch. "That's just our luck."

"It's important?"

"Could be. Do you know when it went missing?"

Malfoy stepped up closer so he could return the book to the cushions, leaning over and brushing against Harry's arm. "No." The despair set in again. "But I do know where it is now."

Pushing himself up, Harry turned to face Malfoy properly and even heard Ron and Hermione's footsteps as they came closer. "How on Earth can you possibly know that?"

"I found it."

Harry blinked up at him. "You found it? Where is it?"

"You should know," Malfoy shrugged. "It's in that disappearing room…"

"The Room of Requirement — the tiara and the wig and the mannequin!" It clicked in Harry's mind, reminding him about where he hid the text book. "Oh." The other two paused in their clearing up as Harry remembered why he was hiding that book to begin with. "Oh."

"What?" Ron asked, but Harry was focusing on Malfoy's face.

"What is it?"

"I-I actually held it last year. I moved them like that so I could remember where I was hiding the potions text book where I got that spell that cut you open from."

Malfoy's hands rose so he could rub at the old scars on his chest. "Oh."

"Well, Harry, Hermione and I can go check it out and you and Malfoy can talk this one over," Ron suggested, continuing to shut the other books and straighten up.

"Potter knows where it is," Malfoy objected. "He should take you straight there. This diadem's important, apparently." Harry's stomach grew cold. Malfoy didn't want him around and he didn't want that conversation to happen. "I'm going for a run." And with that, he brushed past Harry and headed straight for the back of the portrait.

The moment the door closed behind Malfoy, Harry's knees gave way and he slipped down so he was sitting with his back against the couch.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side. Ron wasn't far behind.

Harry just buried his head in his hands. "That was intense."

"Really? Because it didn't seem like that to me. It seemed more like it was cold," Ron said honestly, crouching down beside Harry. "It shouldn't have been — you should have kissed him _weeks_ ago — but I guess you're gonna have to get used to it. As long as he's sane enough to be walking about without drooling everywhere, this is going to happen more often."

"That isn't funny."

"It wasn't meant to be. You two are in that awkward pre-relationship phase without actually being in a relationship even though we all know that you two are crazy about each other. And he will be drooling soon."

"He's holding on and we all know he's a stubborn little git, so he'll hold on until he's found the right one. He wouldn't be Malfoy if he didn't."

"Maybe he _has_ found the right one and the waiting's getting a little hard for him. And just so you know, if you did bring him home, we wouldn't be jumping for joy, but we'd understand that he's the one who makes you happy. Because he does make you happy, you know? We've seen it."

With a groan, Harry pushed himself up, sick with guilt and frustrated by Ron's perceptiveness. "You know what? I'll kiss Malfoy if you grow the balls to kiss the girl you're crazy over."

And with that, he grabbed the book Malfoy left on the couch and headed out.

"Bastard," Ron grumbled under his breath and followed.

Hermione was left behind to ponder what had just happened. The boys were fighting over Harry's feelings for Malfoy? She was used to them having insipid fights, but this was a new level of stupidity. She could see where they were both coming from, but her opinion was that they had a more important crisis to worry about, what with this war and all. Merlin forbid the greatest Dark Lord of all time got in the way of their love life.

* * *

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	12. Chapter Twelve: To Intimidate

**I didn't realise how tiny this chapter was until I took it out of the main file I have the entire fic on and put it into a new document. Strange. I normally don't let them be this small. I guess this just does what I wanted it to do in so few words…**

**Felice09: I adore the monster, too. Chapter fifteen ends with such a sweet moment that's crazy. I think that's what's really terrifying about it.**

**KatieMalfoy19: Great things await Ginny. Things that I've had planned since this fic began…**

**AllysonAvery: I always try to make it that they have a slow relationship. I don't understand how people can through them together straight away as if the years of fighting were nothing.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter twelve of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: To Intimidate**

* * *

Running was something Draco was never fond of. He didn't like the way his feet connected with the ground or the way it sometimes jarred his knees. He didn't like the panting of the way his hands would open and clench. Flying was different. Flying required using his upper body strength, flexing his arms and his torso to steer the broom. It was elegant and smooth and being tied in with his magic made it more natural.

It was also something he wasn't allowed to do. The Auror that was watching him made sure of that. So Draco begrudgingly ran laps around the Great Lake, sometimes walking when he wore himself out. His guard for the night was a lazy old fool that leant against a tree and watched him go. Of course, the Auror put a tracking beacon on him — it was flashing yellow on his back — so he could keep an eye on him. Draco supposed it was better than having an athletic Auror jogging along with him. This illusion of freedom was very nice, thank you.

Another perk was that it was unlike any nightmare he's had, so he didn't feel the fear he normally felt when he thought the monster could be near.

Disappointingly, the run lacked the same adrenaline that flying provided him with. It would be impossible to say that a Seeker wasn't an adrenaline junkie but by his fourth lap, Draco learnt he wouldn't be experiencing the same awesome buzz. Instead, he was just tired and sore and sweaty.

The only show of promise was that it was giving him time to think — not that he hadn't suffered three days where his only company was his house-elf and his monster. Being out in the open, breathing in the chilly night air, was doing wonders for his brain. Out here, he could think about anything and everything, but his mind kept returning to his family and then to Potter.

Draco was still upset over his mother's decision to leave him be. It stung him in ways he'd never been stung before. For weeks, he couldn't help but feel sick to his stomach at the thought of his mother not caring about him enough to help him. The Malfoys weren't in line to win any humanitarian awards any time soon, but they were family. She'd carried him within her body for nine months and had given him life. He'd fed from her breast for months — she'd literally been the source of his life — yet she'd abandon him like he wasn't worth the effort. He just hoped she hadn't passed such a terrible trait onto him. No, he realised, he'd never hurt his child like this. If he managed to procreate, and they were going through the same situation, he would never consider leaving that child to fend for itself. Maybe he felt so strongly about it because he now knew what it felt like, but Draco was sure he'd never treat his child the same way.

And, of course, thinking about children led him to thoughts about his future and his predicament. Were thoughts of children sadly misplaced? Was he wrong to worry about his parenting abilities? Draco was terrified that yes, he was. He didn't have to worry about his future because he had no future beyond adult nappies and suicide.

He slowed his jogging pace down to something much slower, talking small, even steps with his hands on his hips as he focused on his breathing.

His relationship with Potter was so confusing that it hurt everywhere when he thought about it. He knew that his curse was one where he needed to find love and at this point, he could easily claim that he was. Draco had never experienced love before, and to begin with, he'd thought that this was just him being satisfied with the only person he slightly enjoyed spending time with. As they spent more time together, though, Draco quickly learnt that there was nothing slight about how much he enjoyed Potter's company. He craved the other man. He wanted nothing more than to be with him, regardless to their positions in the war or his gender or his friends and family. He didn't care that they were so incredibly different or that he wasn't a pure blood. All Draco knew was that his world was better when Potter in it and that was so blatantly obvious after these past few days. So many times he was tempted to search him out so he could see his face, but he stopped himself. There was a reason for why he exiled Potter from his room. Draco didn't want to put all his faith in his love for Potter if Potter didn't return it.

He picked up the pace again, getting through a few more metres before something caught his eye. His position around the Great Lake had him closer to the Forbidden Forest than he was to the castle and his guard. There was a flashing that was identical to the light that surrounded him coming from the Forest, pulsing in time with the spell on his back.

Draco turned to look at the guard quickly but couldn't see him properly. He could make out the silhouetted lump under the tree that wasn't moving to check the light, so he veered slightly off course and headed towards it, knowing that it was sign for him and no one else.

His feet moved as lightly as he could work them, moving swiftly and hopefully not attracting the attention of the Auror. Somewhere within him, he hoped that it was his mother calling to him.

For a moment, Draco paused. He considered the idea that this could be the monster laying a trap for him. And if it wasn't the monster (if he really was awake), then it could have been a trap set up by the Death Eaters. His decision to move towards the light went against everything he was and every Slytherin bone in his body.

Damnit, he conceded, and realised that Potter must be rubbing off on him.

And it wasn't in the good way, either.

He hoped the Auror wasn't watching him as he jogged lightly to the light. When the creator of the light figured he'd gotten close enough, the beacon on his back was spelled off him and continued to move forward, zipping around Draco's body to the front of him as if he was jogging on.

The closer he got, the more the flashing revealed. Someone was standing beside it and it seemed to be coming from the person's wand, pulsing slightly dimmer, showing that it was a lure for Draco. The trunks of the trees were bathed in yellow with each beat until Draco was close enough to see who that someone was.

"Professor!" he breathed out, dashing the last few metres to Severus. The spy lowered his wand and the pulsing stopped so that they had a steady stream of yellow light to make the surrounding area visible. "What are you doing here?"

"How have you been?" Severus asked instead.

The older Slytherin looked worse than Draco had ever seen him. He had a new scratch down the side of his face, from the end of his eyebrow down along his cheekbone and ending just before his right nostril — it was fresh and Draco was sure it was going to scar terribly — and his hair was pulled back at the nape of his neck, making Draco think he was fresh from a battle where he couldn't afford to have his hair get in his eyes. There were bags under his eyes, his skin was nearly translucent and his cheeks weren't as full as they should have been. He'd been fighting, alright, and he hadn't been eating.

"Better than you, apparently. I'm at least getting food. What are you doing here?" he repeated.

"I'm here to deliver a package to Potter."

And that had a side of Draco coming out that he never had before. His back stiffened and his eyes narrowed as a protective wave surged through him, eager to do anything he had to so that Harry would be safe.

"What could you possibly want to pass on to him?"

It was Severus who looked at him with narrowed eyes this time, as if he was trying to figure out what was going on in his head. A deep sigh forced its way from Severus' lungs when he realised what was happening to his former student.

"You have affections for him." The words almost stung his tongue. A heavy blush found Draco's cheeks. The blonde could feel the unwanted reaction thanks to the sudden heat on his face. Another sigh tore through Severus. "It's not a trap. I've been working to support him."

Draco was sceptic. "And what is this package that's supposed to help him?"

"I can't tell you."

That didn't lessen Draco's worries at all. "I can't pass on to him anything without knowing what it really is."

"You're acting like a love-struck fool. It's disturbing. Has he kissed you yet?"

"Why would you think…?"

"I was under the impression he returned these half-witted feelings for you."

"How could you possibly know that?" Draco was becoming more and more suspicious.

"I survive by spying, Draco." The way he said it made Draco thankful he hadn't actually been clipped upside his head. "I was made aware that he was your best chance at breaking this curse."

"_I'm_ not even sure…" Draco shook his head. "He hasn't kissed me."

"And the nightmares?"

"They're getting worse," Draco admitted, slipping his hands into the pockets of his track-pants. Potter had been right about it being chilly out. "Sometimes, I don't realise that I'm awake and I spend hours thinking the monster's going to get me or I'll have a whole day where I think it's night, only to have it come out and literally bite my head off. It likes eating me." A shiver, one that had nothing to do with the cold, travelled up his spine. "The fact that it's now taking the form of Potter doesn't help at all. It's like it knows that I'm in…that I have feelings for him and it's using them against me by making him hurt me again and again."

The area around them lit up as the bobbing light mimicking Draco's jogging pace and style came back towards them.

"You should return to your guard," Severus figured and pulled a red pouch from his robes. A letter was attached to the neck of it. "You need to give this to Potter."

Again, that protective wave hit Draco and he stepped back from the older wizard. "I'm not giving him anything that could harm him."

"You're being a fool again. I swear it upon the Unbreakable Vow your mother forced upon me that this isn't dangerous to him. It's going to help him win the war."

With a deep breath, Draco reached out and clasped his fingers around the soft material. There was a spell on it to stop him from feeling what was inside it because he was certainly trying to discover what it could be but was failing. The pouch kept its shape, no matter how Draco squeezed.

"It's for his eyes only. Only he can open it and the letter."

The warning was redundant. "And how am I to say I got it from you?"

"He knows what I'm doing. Now, do you know what he's been doing lately? Has he been searching for anything?"

Draco explained about Ravenclaw's robes and diadem and watched as it all clicked behind Severus' eyes. The Potions Master clearly approved. "So it is something important?"

"More important than you'll ever know," Severus breathed and cocked his head towards the yellow light. "Catch up to it."

"How did you even know that I was going to be out here tonight?" When Severus averted his eyes, Draco realised that there was more to this. "You didn't. You're in cahoots with someone in the Order." Severus straightened his robes. More clicked in Draco's head. "Oh. You're in _bed_ with someone in the Order. Please tell me you're the real father of my cousin's child."

His ear got smacked for that one. "Of course I'm not."

Severus' voice had enough bite in it for Draco to make the connection, though. His eyes widened and the smile disappeared from his face. "Oh. You and Lupin, then?"

"You have no right to look at me like that. You're relying on _Potter's love_ to survive. You're the poster boy for sleeping with the enemy."

"It's…I'm not surprised about that," Draco admitted. His face was starting to flush again. "It's just…gay sex. I'm not entirely…"

"We are _not_ having this conversation," Severus barked out. He cleared his throat and gathered himself as if he realised that he was probably too loud with that outburst. "Go."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and caught up with the light with the pouch tucked into the band of his pants, hidden by his jumper. Just as he reached it, he felt a burst of magic wash over him and groaned out loud. Firstly, the light was returned to his back. Secondly, Severus felt the need to cover him in sweat to keep up the image of a jogger. Sure, Draco guessed it made sense, but it wasn't pleasant. Magical sweat wasn't his cup of tea. Normal sweat was bad but magical sweat was gross.

He jogged the rest of the way back to his guard, who was actually waiting for him with a bottle of water.

"Err, thanks," Draco panted for real and took a few sips of it. He bent over at the waist and tried his hardest to catch his breath.

"You looked like you were doing a lot of work out there." The Auror was a plump man who looked like he was better suited for desk work. However, the fact that he was an Auror told Draco that no, he was a powerful wizard working with the Order and could easily defeat a teen in a duel.

"Going insane isn't a reason to let myself go."

The Auror nodded his head. "I completely agree. You're an athlete, then?"

Draco slipped down onto the ground and started to stretch out his muscles, cooling them down like he normally would after Quidditch training. Sitting on his rear, he leant forward and grasped his right foot with his right hand but still kept his neck craned to show his guard that he was still listening. "I was the Seeker for Slytherin."

"Ah. Not much running in that, though." There was a chuckle to his voice and Draco was suddenly reminded of Slughorn (not that Slughorn laughed in Draco's presence).

"I'm certain I'm not allowed to fly around. You'd all be worried about me escaping."

The Auror raised an eyebrow. "And how far do you expect to get before sunrise?"

Draco had to incline his head. The man was right. "I haven't thought about it."

"So it's true, then? You've switched sides?" He sat down beside Draco with a grace Draco hadn't been expecting from a man his size.

"Wouldn't you if your leader forced you to take the Never After?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't have gotten myself involved with anyone like that in the first place."

Draco scoffed then and switched legs. "Oh to be born with such privileges."

The older man changed topics. "Have you ever considered being an Auror?"

Again, a scoff escaped Draco's throat. "I'm the reason Albus Dumbledore's dead. I don't think I'll be allowed anywhere near the application forms after that."

"We'd be stupid not to let someone with such a claim through. It wasn't easy to get one up on old Dumbledore. Not even You-Know-Who had ever managed it. The way you let the Death Eaters in was inspired, you know?"

Draco's eyes focused on the man. "Excuse me?" The way he was being looked at didn't sit well with Draco. Having been told by an Auror that his attempt at murder was inspiring, he wasn't sure what to think of this man. "I'm not entirely sure the Order would be very happy with this conversation."

"Oh!" The man's face split into an embarrassed smile. "Oh, I'm sorry." He held out his hand to Draco. "I'm Wallace Graves. I'm on the Auror training and selecting teams. I'm thinking about this purely from a teaching stance."

Blinking suspiciously, Draco accepted the hand and gave it one firm shake before he brought his knees together and stretched his body over his legs to hold on to his toes.

"Sorry. That must have been strange," Wallace apologised again. "We've already worked it into our rookie curriculum. Junior Aurors are learning how to fight against such a strategy thanks to you."

"Oh." Draco wasn't sure if he should have been flattered or not.

"I'd love to bring you to the camp so you could tell the rookies in greater detail about the whole plan and execution (Draco grimaced at that) but you're apparently limited to Hogwarts."

"You've asked?"

"Of course I have. Minister Scrimgeour shot the idea down, and I was sure that he would, but it was worth a try. They could learn so much from you."

Now Draco was feeling flattered and a little ill. "I guess I should thank you, but I'm not sure it's a good thing to be complimented on how you tried to kill someone."

Wallace was still smiling at him. "Compliments should always be accepted. You never know when the next one will come your way. Now, back to my original question. Have you considered becoming an Auror?"

"Not really," Draco said with a shrug as he let go of his feet and leant back on his arms. He was being mindful of the special delivery stashed on his body. "I never thought I'd be on this side of the war."

"And now that you're here?"

"I just want to be able to see the sun again."

"And if that happens? Hypothetically, if you get your kiss and you're cleared of your charges, what would you do with your life?"

Looking up at the stars now, Draco sighed. "I guess I'd be living with hi-with whoever I end up being kissed by and keeping to the shadows. I can't imagine the general public would be too happy with me." He hoped Wallace hadn't caught his slip up. If he did, he didn't act like it.

"No, I can't imagine they would be, either. Looks like you're hoping for a special someone with Galleons in the bank to spare." A laugh came from Draco but his face was lacking the matching smile. "How would you like to be an Auror, just in case your one true love isn't loaded?"

"They wouldn't take me."

"Why not?" Draco didn't answer the stupid question so Wallace continued. "I mean, you appear to have the fitness required. You're a Seeker, so you're clearly talented on a broom. From what I've heard about you, you're incredibly skilled at potion making (Draco's head snapped towards him now as the old man listed each point off on his fingers); you've got a brain for tactics; if your father's any indication, you've been trained in the Dark Arts and you're talented with your wand-work. I think that's everything we look for in an Auror."

"How can you possibly know about half of that?"

Wallace tutted. "We've based an Auror course on you. You don't think we'd do a little research first? When you were deemed enemy number one, all those files were given over to the Ministry. I know what your OWLs were and what your expected NEWTs were and what each of your reports said. I've even read some of your assignments. Your love for potions and history is evident."

That knowledge was a little overwhelming. "You really know that much about me?" He grabbed on to his ankles and drew them up before leaning over with his elbows pressing down on his knees.

"Knowing the enemy is part of our job." Draco had a feeling Wallace had shrugged his shoulders but he couldn't see it. There was movement beside him before a card was presented in front of Draco's nose. He startled and straightened up. "When you're ready and free from this curse, Floo me and I'll get you a place into the academy."

"What?" Draco's vocabulary flew away.

"You're not going to get anywhere in life without any connections. Your father's connections aren't going to help you now. The Malfoy name is worthless in this day and age."

"Why would you do this for me?"

"Because I admire your mind." He gave the card another tiny wiggle before Draco's fingers closed over it, accepting it.

"I-thank you."

The Auror leant over and patted Draco's knee. "Come on, then. We should be getting you back inside so your next guard can take over."

Draco nodded and stood with Wallace. This had to be the best thing to happen to him since he was cursed and he was thankful for it. If he managed to get out of this life, he had a potential job waiting to him already, which was something he certainly wouldn't have had if he'd managed to kill Dumbledore and the Death Eaters had won the war. No, he probably would have been his father's replacement, and slumming with the Dark Lord wasn't exactly an occupation Draco was terribly fond of.

They headed back up to the castle together.

* * *

Before getting to his room, Draco stopped and poked his head into Potter's room. It was beyond three in the morning, so he knew that Potter and the others would be in bed. A quick glance around the room told him as much and he felt a sense of relief upon seeing Potter curled up with the blankets up as high as his cheeks. He'd wished their conversation from before hadn't gone the way it did, but he really needed to clear his head.

"My replacement's here," Wallace said softly from behind him, clearly not wanting to wake the others, when Draco heard the soft shoes on the floor.

Two steps later, those soft shoes were replaced by a familiar clacking Draco feared. He turned sharply and saw nothing but a mouth full of teeth closing over him.

* * *

**Feedback is love.**


	13. Chapter Thirteen: To Grow

**So I just hope the ending of chapter twelve was confusing enough for everyone. I had lots of fun with it.**

**I'm sorry this chapter's a few days late. We had one hell of a week here in Australia. Friday and the weekend was all Easter-related and then Tuesday was ANZAC Day. I went to the footy Tuesday, only to see Hawthorn own Geelong right up to the moment where it counted, meaning we lost, bugger it, and I've been working every day since and I'm exhausted and unhappy with how this fic is now going. Bugger. I've been sitting at my desk every day for the past four days trying to figure out what to write in chapter sixteen in my itty-bitty notepad and it's very, very blank. **

**Working sucks.**

**Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter thirteen of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: To Grow**

* * *

"Are you sure it's in here?" Harry heard Ron calling from three rows down. The area that once was where he'd stashed the potions text book was gone, completely rearranged, thanks to the diligent Aurors that were sent to clean up after Malfoy's trick. The cupboard was gone, unsurprisingly, but they apparently felt the need to sort through everything else in the general vicinity to make sure it was the only item Malfoy toyed with.

"It should be," Harry responded, shouting as he lifted the old bird cage he remembered.

"I've found a blonde wig." The shout came from Hermione and was quickly followed by a yelp and a crash. She must have lost her footing.

"Are you alright?" Ron was already making his way back to her.

"Y-yes! I'm fine." Her voice was strained as she pushed herself back up. Harry could hear her dusting her clothes off with her hands.

His own hands found an empty bookshelf that he'd never seen before and he used it to steady himself as he stepped over a pile of rubble. The place really was a mess. He stepped over the stuffed troll and sighed. That very troll was once very close to the diadem they were looking for. Now, it just added to the chaos.

"Any luck?"

"It's only the wig," Hermione sighed. "I wish accio would work, but why would the world suddenly decide to be easy for us?"

Harry laughed. It would be completely out-of-character for the world to like them. He made it past a three-legged cabinet and a stack of chairs until he found where he'd hidden the potions book. Standing amongst the rubble, he turned in a circle, hoping he'd see that glimmer of old silver. When he saw nothing, he continued on, passing by a row of broomsticks that were propped up against a large writing bureau.

"You know, we really could have used Malfoy's help," Ron said and Harry rolled his eyes. "An extra pair of eyes wouldn't have hurt."

"Would you stop trying to force Harry onto him?" Hermione hissed in return. "If Harry's crush is love, which is doubtful, he'll kiss him when he's ready to and not a moment before. He's got other things to think about. Malfoy's sanity isn't as important as defeating Voldemort."

Finally, Harry had someone to support him.

"All it takes is two seconds to kiss him, Hermione," Ron pointed out and Harry could hear him picking something up. It was tossed away just as quickly. "Just an old trophy."

"Why are you so insistent on this? I never thought you'd want Malfoy to be a part of your family."

"Did you see how happy Harry was when he and Malfoy were getting along? He'd crawl into bed at who-knows-what hours and, even in the dark, I could see how big of a smile he had on his face. Even when all he's done is check up on him during the day, he looks much happier and relaxed as if just knowing he's there is enough to make him cheerful. Harry and Ginny never had that. I'm worried Harry's gonna give me cavities with how sweet he is for Malfoy. That's what I want for my family."

Harry shook his head at the corniness of it all but he knew that he was mentally agreeing with Ron. The sight of Malfoy, alone, was enough to make his stomach flutter. He thought back on the conversation he and Ron had had when he first realised that his feelings for Malfoy had changed and how Ron had pointed out that he sounded like he was in love.

"Well, he has his reasons for not kissing Malfoy," Hermione continued to argue. Harry was moving further away from them, now heading towards a pile of silverware. Goblets, forks, a dagger… "And for as long as he has his doubts, we can't possibly know if it's true love and who knows what'll happen if he kisses him too early?"

Ron was ready to reply when Harry found the perfect distraction. "Hey! Guys! I found it." Having buried into the centre of the pile, which had been so neatly placed by the searching Aurors, he'd found the dusty tiara stuck between the arms of an intricate candelabrum. Instantly, he heard the others start to move (Ron got his feet caught and fell down into what sounded like a pile of books) back towards him. He jiggled the two items loose until he had the candlestick in his left hand and the tiara in his right. In the right light, he could easily see the inscription on the silver.

_Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_.

He had the Horcrux.

"So, err, how do we destroy it, mate?" Ron asked from over his shoulder, bringing them back to the second half of their problem.

* * *

When they got back to the Tower, they parted ways thanks to their need for sleep. Hermione vowed that she'd figure out how to destroy the Horcrux soon and bade them a good night before turning and heading up the stairs to the girl's dorms. It was late and they deserved a decent night's sleep.

Harry and Ron made their way up to their own dorm. As Ron entered their room, Harry sighed and took a step back.

"I'll come back in a bit," he said softly, already turning towards Malfoy's room. First, he knocked on Malfoy's door, but when that didn't get a response, he pulled the necklace over his head and used the key to get in. Malfoy wasn't there. With another sigh, Harry sat on the neatly made bed and considered sticking around until Malfoy got back from his run.

Harry shook his head and stood up again, heading for the door. He paused with his hand on the handle and turned around again, going straight for the window. His hands grabbed the curtains and he pulled them back to look out onto the grounds. The moon wasn't full but it was bright enough to light up Hagrid's hut and the Lake. He could make out a few of the trees but what caught his attention was the glowing, bouncing light that was coming around the Great Lake. The Auror must have planted it on Malfoy so he could see where he was.

And straight away, Harry had that feeling in his stomach that had him hating Ron's earlier words. Knowing that that bobbing light was Malfoy was enough to have Harry feeling giddy.

"Oh, we're so screwed," Harry grumbled and pressed his forehead against the glass of the window. He watched the light a minute longer before he returned to his own room and curled up under his blankets.

* * *

The next morning was a Saturday morning. The students were up later than usual, making it harder for Harry to pop his head into Malfoy's room to see how bad his dreams were. They'd somehow managed to keep Malfoy a secret. As far as Harry knew, the younger boys thought the room was closed off because it wasn't in use and that suited them just fine. They really didn't need the kids knowing that one of the most hated beings in England was right there, under their noses. Merlin knew what they'd do to him if they found out.

So Harry had to wait until after breakfast (Hermione had her nose in a book the entire time) before he could check in on his blonde crush.

Honestly, Harry felt a little guilty that Hermione was working so hard on finding an answer to their issue and all he could focus on was whether if he should kiss Malfoy or not. It seemed so immature that he was so focused on this boy while Hermione was forced to link her arms with one of the boys as she walked so they could steer her while she read. Of course, Ron didn't seem to mind that at all, what with his left side pressed into her right as they moved down the hallways and up the stairs, but Harry still felt bad about it.

After getting her into the common room, they manoeuvred her to a couch and sat her down. Ron joined her but Harry took off towards the dorms. Halfway there, Hermione's head popped back up with an announcement.

"I have it!" she exclaimed, shocking a few of the younger students around them.

Harry paused and turned to her. "Oh."

"But, you know, if you're off to do something life-changing, mate, go ahead and do that. We can talk about it when you get back," Ron encouraged, already waving Harry off.

"I-no. I was just going to check. This is more important." He was returning to the couch as he spoke. "So what do we need to do?"

There was a frown darkening Hermione's face. "We need to make a potion." Her fingers flipped over the pages. "It's an incredibly complicated potion. I don't know if I'd be able to make it."

Harry looked over her shoulder to give it a read. He pointed to a word. "What does that even mean?"

Hermione pulled the book closer to her face like a short-sighted person without their glasses. "I've never seen it before…"

"We're doomed."

Begrudgingly, Hermione sighed and lowered the text to her lap. "Not necessarily…"

"If you don't know what that means, we can't make it."

"You're forgetting who's hidden away. I'm sure he'd know."

"M-," Harry started to exclaim but calmed down. "_Malfoy_? You really think he'd help or know or that we can even trust him with this?"

"He doesn't need to know what the potion does, Harry." It sounded like she was chiding him. "We don't have any other choice. It looks like it's a two-person potion anyway. We all know you and Ron aren't up to making it."

"So you're going to make me ask him, even though things are clearly awkward between us?"

"Promise him a kiss in return," Ron smiled.

A few of the younger students heard this and their heads popped up in surprise. Mortified, Harry waved them off. "It's a joke. It's an inside joke." He could imagine it now. A student writes home about the juicy gossip he or she overheard in the common room. Not long after that, an article's published in some trashy publication, outing the Boy Who Lived before he's even sure there's an outing to be done. That bothered him. "Can we keep the 'Harry's-potentially-in-love-with-a-guy talk' down?" he hissed out, closer to Ron than before.

"This potential guy you're talking about happens to be the best at potions at this school," Hermione reminded him. "I know this isn't a small thing to ask of you, but you have to realise that it's so we can destroy Voldemort."

"Maybe we can ask Slughorn."

"He'll know what it's about straight away."

"He already knows Voldemort has…those things. He's the one who told him about them."

"What are the chances that he'll want to get involved?"

"Maybe he'll feel guilty enough that he'll help us out."

Ron scoffed. "You'd know all about feeling guilty, right?"

Harry ignored him and grabbed the book from Hermione so he could take it to Professor Slughorn to see if he'd assist them.

* * *

An hour later, Harry was back in the common room with no luck on the Slughorn front. The Head of Slytherin hasn't wanted anything to do with the Horcrux situation, despite the begging Harry had done. Slughorn hadn't caved to the desperate pleas or his attempted guilt-trip. He stayed resolute in his decision not to get involved, no matter how much the Boy Who Lived needed him (Harry suspected this could have been because no one could ever know he participated in such a way because they didn't want the knowledge of the Horcruxes getting out to the public). So after an hour of failing, using every tactic Harry could think of, he was forced to drag his heels back to Gryffindor Tower, completely empty-handed and facing the fact that he needed to use Malfoy for this task.

Harry was faintly aware of how much the universe hated him.

And the looks Ron and Hermione gave him reinforced that.

"I'll ask him tonight," was all Harry said as he sunk into the couch like he was sinking into his own dramatic world of despair.

* * *

After dinner, Harry slipped into Malfoy's room and sighed when he saw the fairer boy who lay covered in scratches while he slept. Winky was there, already healing the deep ones on his face and doing her best to keep him from thrashing.

"I've got this, Winky," Harry said when he turned to address him.

"M-Master Draco has been missing Mister Potter, he has," Winky told him, backing away from the bed so Harry could sit by Malfoy's side. One hand found his hair and the other found his face, where he finished the job Winky started. The effects were immediate — Malfoy's breathing evened out and his hands stayed by his side.

"I've missed him, too." Touching Malfoy calmed Harry down as much as it did Malfoy. He was reminded again of what Malfoy's presence did to him. "How's he been?"

Winky look upset. "Master Draco does not eat well, sir. Master Draco thinks it's poison and he tries to keep his knives so he can fights his monster, sir. Winky has tried telling him Winky is real and is not a bad dream but Master Draco is not believing a word Winky says and even tried to stab Winky one time." She stepped around the bed and drew the covers up to keep Malfoy warm.

"Why haven't you said anything about this to me?" It terrified Harry to know that Malfoy's grasp on reality was slipping away like that.

"Winky understands that Master Draco isn't well. Winky knows how to care for an unwell Master, sir, and sir doesn't. According to Master Draco, Mister Potter doesn't care for Master Draco but Winky does and Winky will help him."

Harry was ready to argue that, but the moment he opened his mouth, long fingers wrapped around his wrist, forcing him to look down at Malfoy. His eyes were wide open and staring at him through a thin sheen of tears that never shed.

"Harry?" he asked, as if he was confused that Harry would be there for him.

"Hey," Harry greeted, offering him a smile. "Good evening."

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy propped himself up on his elbows. "Is something wrong? What happened?"

"Nothing. It's alright," Harry reassured him. "I was just wondering if you'd like to help us with something."

Malfoy sat up properly at that and Winky disappeared, presumably to retrieve his breakfast.

"What do you need my help with?" Malfoy was examining his hands to see if he'd hurt them during his nightmare.

"Brewing a potion." Harry reached out and tucked a stray hair behind Malfoy's ear.

"Harry, please," Malfoy breathed softly, ducking his head away from Harry's hand.

Harry shuffled over so he was sitting up next to Malfoy with his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. "I know that things are a bit strange between us. I know that our friendship is weird and what I feel for you is beyond what I feel for Ron or Hermione or even Ginny." Malfoy started to avoid looking at him then. "Just…don't shut me out because this is getting tough. I don't know if we're in love but if you give me time, it might happen."

A dry laugh came from Malfoy's throat. "I'm entertained by you and your thoughts of me having time. I can't remember the last time we talked and it didn't end up as one of my nightmares. I don't need time. I'm in love with you already."

Harry's mouth went dry. He never expected Malfoy to say that so openly. "Oh…"

It was then that Winky reappeared and started to unload a tray of food onto Malfoy's desk. Harry's eyes quickly checked the assorted foods. Already chopped sausages and bacon and very lumpy oatmeal. Winky wasn't giving him a reason to need knife.

Malfoy got up and sat himself down at the desk. "Let me finish up here and get dressed and I'll help you with whatever you need. I'm guessing your friends will be joining us in here?"

"We can't exactly have you out in the open on a Saturday night," Harry said. The words weren't coming out so easily.

Nevertheless, Malfoy waved him off. "Go collect whatever you need and I'll be ready in ten minutes."

Harry rose. "Thanks."

When Harry was out of the room, he closed the door behind him and paused. Draco Malfoy had just confessed his love for him and all he said was 'oh'? The back of his head hit the door once, then twice, as he tried to knock some sense into himself. _Oh_? What kind of heartfelt idiot replies with _oh_ when the man he's crazy about admits to lo…?

His thoughts were abruptly cut off when the door opened suddenly, letting him crash back into Draco's room and onto the blonde's body. Having not expected the extra weight to fall upon him, Malfoy staggered back and they fell to the floor together, completely tangled in each other's limbs. His back was against Malfoy's front, his head was tucked under Malfoy's chin, there were hands on his upper arm and shoulder and he could feel the way Malfoy's body cradled his between his legs.

"Ow," he heard from above him. Harry pushed himself up but only managed to elbow Malfoy in the ribs and squirm uncomfortably in his groin. A groan came from Malfoy.

"Sorry," Harry muttered and stilled. Underneath him, Malfoy started to crawl up towards his bed, letting his legs slip out from under Harry. When they were clear, Harry rolled onto his knees and sat back on his heels.

"I heard you knock, so I…"

"I don't like this." Harry reached behind him and closed the door while Malfoy leant back against a leg of his bed. He looked like he was waiting for the bad news, like a patient at a doctor's clinic. "I don't like being awkward around you. I like what we had before. It was nice when we could just talk to each other or touch each other without it being strange. I showed you my scars and I've seen yours — I've never been so close to anyone in my life and now it's like we can't be in the same room together…"

"So we forget about the other night and what I just said?"

Harry took a deep, relaxing breath. "I don't think I can forget _that_," he made a pathetic gesture towards Malfoy, "and I don't think I want to, but I think we should go back to what we were and see what happens…"

"See if you'll return _this_."

"Yeah." Harry scooted forward and grabbed Malfoy's hand. "I want it to happen. I really do."

"It'll just take time."

"Forgive me?"

Malfoy took a deep breath before he turned his hand around in Harry's and intertwined their fingers together. "Don't take too long."

Shakily, almost as if he was buzzed on adrenaline, Harry nodded his head and tightened his grip on Malfoy's hands before letting go so he could stand. "You should get yourself ready…finish breakfast and get changed and all that."

"See you in a bit, then."

* * *

This time, when Harry left Malfoy, he didn't stop at the door. He continued on downstairs where he found Ron waiting for him.

"Where's Hermione?"

"She's gone to get what we need. He said yes?"

"Amongst other things," Harry breathed and sat himself down on the couch.

"What? Did he confess his undying love to you?" He laughed it off but ended up choking when he saw the blush burning across Harry's cheeks. "Oh."

"That's what I said."

Ron blinked at him. "…really? That's all you said?"

Harry lost all the strength that was keeping his spine upright and slipped forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees. "At first, yeah, but then we decided to try being friends and see if lo-if _it_'ll happen."

"So this is gonna be really weird up there, isn't it?"

Regretfully, Harry nodded his head. "Yeah. But the way he just said it wasn't how I expected any of this to happen." And so Harry explained it to Ron, who was looking at him with pure disbelief.

"When did he grow a pair large enough to do something so bold?"

"It must be the Gryffindor way rubbing off on him."

"Yeah, because we're brave enough to do that."

"Malfoy's braver than us."

"_That_ is a terrifying revelation."

"We're doomed."

With a sigh, Harry leant back on the couch and together they waited for Hermione's return.

* * *

When she arrived, she had an army of house-elves carrying more jars filled with ingredients that Harry thought the potions cabinet could contain. It was obvious that she'd managed to guilt Slughorn into giving her whatever she needed and more for this task.

"Are we going up to his room?" she asked when the last elf was through the door. Harry could easily count six or seven of them holding four jars each.

"Umm, yeah," Harry swallowed, realising there were several students in the common room who were now staring at them.

"Lead the way, then. These guys can't just pop in with half of these ingredients; they're too volatile for that."

Harry stood and did as Hermione told him, hoping that Malfoy had had enough time to do what he needed to do. At first, Ron stayed behind — Harry could hear him trying to calm the kids who'd certainly been worried after such a display. Harry knocked on Malfoy's door and what he saw had his jaw drop open.

The bed was gone and the room had been turned into what could only be described as a potions lab. Cauldrons of various sizes lined the desk, another table had been brought in and it was covered by a marble cutting board. Utensils were spread out beside it. On the other side of the table were scales and glass beakers and other glass pieces of equipment Harry hadn't seen out of a crime-scene procedural show or some strange villain's laboratory in the movies. There was a pile of books where Malfoy's bedside table used to be.

"Wow. What have you done?" he asked when they entered the room. Draco stood behind the door so he wasn't visible to any enquiring eyes that might have tried to peek in.

"Winky helped," Malfoy shrugged, finally closing the door behind Ron. "She's not letting me have my knife set though." He was glaring at the elf, who was placing the last few beakers on the table. There wasn't a sign that she was intimidated by the bully. Instead, she looked quite proud of herself.

"I'll make sure he doesn't do anything with them," Harry promised her. "We need him and his cutting skills if we're going to defeat Voldemort."

The house-elves all chimed out the same gasp and struggled to keep a hold on the jars they had. The three Gryffindors were quick to levitate them all — Harry didn't use his wand — until the elves reached up and collected what they'd lost control of. When Ron glared at them, they moved quickly to get the pots onto the flat surfaces.

Winky reached into her pillow case and pulled out a bundle of leather. They were placed next to the jars. After that, each elf disappeared, leaving the four former students to carry on. Malfoy was already rummaging through the ingredients, picking up the vials and smelling them before moving on.

"This is some dark potion you want me to make," he commented to Hermione as he moved. He took a whiff of something that looked like blood to Harry and the blonde scrunched his face up and returned it to the table. "That's nundu blood. What the hell are you doing with nundu blood? It's illegal to transport it out of Africa. The penalty for a wizard smuggling it out is death."

Hermione stepped up beside him. "It's a core ingredient in this potion." She presented him with the book and showed him what she meant. Without being too harsh, Malfoy snatched the book out of her hands and started to flick through the pages (Harry felt his mouth go dry when he realised it was at least six pages long).

"Fuck me sideways, Granger," Malfoy breathed.

Harry glared at Ron when the redhead elbowed him in the ribs with a wink. When his grin didn't disappear, Harry stomped on Ron's large foot instead.

"Boys need to grow up," Hermione declared.

Malfoy hadn't paid it any attention, though. His eyes were stuck to the page. "Most third year _apprentices_ wouldn't know how to perform half of these techniques. Where the hell did you get this book from and why do you need a potion that's this dark?"

He must have caught the way Hermione's eyes flickered to Harry's because his own eyes narrowed as he looked up. "We're under strict orders not to tell anyone," Harry explained, moving over to Malfoy's left side. "But it's really important. Can you do it?"

A sigh escaped Malfoy's body and he handed over the book back to Hermione. "I can try."

"Alright."

Malfoy took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "Let's get to work."

* * *

Generally, Ron and Harry stood back as they watched the other two cut, boil, crush and peel the various leaves, cloves, pods and goo. They worked well together, actually, managing to share the workspace perfectly. Harry watched them; they were both conscious of their elbows and made sure they were never touching. Whenever one went to suggest something, the other was already reaching for it.

"This is weird," Ron whispered as they sat on the floor with their backs propped against the wall. "They're getting along."

"Bonding over their mutual hate for Voldemort?"

"Bonding over their mutual _love_ for you." He then bumped their shoulders together. "I think she'll be fine with him at a family dinner."

"Shut up."

"Seriously. Can't you imagine them passing the mashed spuds the way they just passed that…err…?"

It was purple and still wriggling on the plate Hermione handed over to Malfoy. He didn't look too happy that he was stuck with it.

"Fine," Malfoy grumbled and poured it into a ramekin dish before he propped up the tripod and rested the dish on the gauze mat. He then turned so he could look at Harry. "Grab me the red leather book from the pile."

Harry got up and sifted through just a few of the thick tomes before he found the red book. He flipped through it briefly and noted it was a dictionary of brewing terms before he handed it over. As he did, he caught a whiff of something that made a shiver run down his spine and his head swim and start to hurt. A hand was pressed against his lower back and he could tell, just from that one touch, that it was Malfoy.

"It's the nundu blood," Malfoy explained. Even with the book in his hand, he pointed at what looked like a silver-lined cauldron that was simmering. "It destroys anything that's impure."

"Hence the silver." That hand on his back felt amazing, as if it had been a lifetime since he and Malfoy were happy enough to be like this. "How do you even know about this stuff if it's so hard to come by?"

"My father was a collector of many a rare item." His fingers fanned out and slipped around to Harry's hip, lightly stroking. "He would have wanted something so special."

"But he wouldn't want something that…well…"

"He wouldn't want something that can only be contained by silver? I admit, if it had been spilt, it would have melted away most of the other objects on the shelf we had it on, but it was something most people couldn't get their hands on, so Father purchased it."

Harry stood on his toes and leant over so he could get a better look at it. There wasn't much in the small cauldron, bubbling dark red and smelling so bad it gave Harry a terrible headache. "I'm guessing it's a 'don't touch' situation," he commented when Malfoy's fingers grabbed on to his shirt and pulled him back.

The blonde scoffed at his words. "Not for you."

When Harry's brow turned into a confused brow, Hermione perked up from the other side of Malfoy. "You seem oddly sure that Harry's entirely innocent."

"He could shag a unicorn foal under a rainbow in a storm of white rose petals and the blood wouldn't have any effect on him."

Even Ron had to commend Malfoy for that. Harry wasn't impressed.

"Hey! I'm not so…and you're not really one to talk," he accused, looking at Malfoy. "One drunken blow job isn't hardcore."

"Death Eater."

"Okay, well, yes, that's evil." Harry's face started to show his concern. "So if you came into contact with it, what'll happen?"

"I don't know and I don't want to find out."

"That's why I handled it," Hermione added, taking the book from Malfoy. "It would probably burn him, at least."

"Most potions I've seen that use nundu blood require it to be diluted. This one needs it pure as the base ingredient." He turned and gave Harry his full attention. "You need to destroy something evil? What has the Dark Lord created?"

Harry sighed and Malfoy drew back his hand. "I can't tell you. I was told not to tell anyone."

"Right, well, you should probably head back. We've still got a lot of work to do."

"Just…don't spill the blood on you."

A scoff came from Malfoy. "You've got no reason to worry." While his tone was cocky, the small smile on his face reassured Harry, so he returned beside Ron, who was grinning again.

"What now?"

"Giving or receiving?"

Harry glared at him and nudged him in the ribs.

* * *

Both Harry and Ron were sleeping when Hermione and Malfoy finished with the potion. They were slumped up against the wall, breathing deeply, despite the long, arduous hours the other two put into the brewing. It was Hermione who woke them both, looking exactly how one should after spending the entire night making a potion.

"Hey," Ron greeted her, stretching and cracking his neck as he and Harry tried to work out the kinks they earned for sleeping sitting up against a wall. "What time is it?"

"Something past three."

"Are you done already?" Harry yawned, taking off his glasses so he could rub at his eyes. When he put them back on, he looked over Hermione's shoulder to see Malfoy's back. He was cleaning up the bench. Looking back to Hermione, he pushed himself up. "Can we…?"

"I don't feel comfortable moving this out of the room," Hermione sighed, rubbing at her forehead. Harry knew that as a sign of tiredness.

"It's about time I go for my shower," Malfoy said suddenly, now moving so he was at his wardrobe, grabbing out a towel. "Feel free to do what you want with my room until I get back." And just like that, he was gone.

"I'll go get the diadem," said Hermione, leaving Ron and Harry to wake up properly.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" Ron asked Harry as he stretched his legs out in front of him and rested his head against the wall behind him. "I think Malfoy wouldn't mind you joining him in the shower."

"Can you stop, please? I get it," Harry grumbled. "Right now, I think destroying a Horcrux is more important than getting off with Malfoy."

"Hermione and I can take care of the Horcrux, you know?"

"I want to be here for it."

Ron shrugged lopsidedly. "There are more fun things you could be doing right now."

Turning sharply, Harry had to fight to keep his voice down. "Is this about me being with Malfoy or about me being here? Do you want a moment alone with Hermione or something?"

The redhead face adopted a look of shock. "Really? You think this has anything to do with that? I've been behind you being with Malfoy for _months_ now."

"Yeah, and the time with Hermione's just a bonus."

"Not gonna deny that, but it's not why I'm trying to shove the two of you together."

A knock on the door prevented Harry's retort, bringing a thankful end to this round of the apparently perpetual conversation. He got to the door and opened it for Hermione, who had the tiara hidden under a jumper.

"Thank Merlin," Harry muttered as Ron dragged himself up and the three of them made their way over to the bench. "So we just drop it in, right?"

The potion was simmering and was purple in colour. It didn't smell as bad as some of the potions they'd concocted in class but there was still a stench there that made him glad they weren't brewing in his bedroom.

"I think that's the general idea," Hermione said, nodding. "Who wants the honours?"

"You might as well," Ron suggested. "You're the one who figured all of this out and then spent all the time on the potion."

With a nod, Hermione pulled the diadem out and held it over the cauldron. "Are you two ready for this?"

Both nodded once, firmly, with their eyes on the diadem. There was a moment of hesitation before Hermione lowered it in. Instantly, the potion started to fizzle and hiss and the diadem started to break down in a black melted mess. Soon after, the room was filling with a stench Harry had never smelt before.

"Oh my God," Harry reeled and they all took several steps back, hacking and covering their noses with their sleeves. "So bad…"

"It's the soul decaying and dying," Hermione managed to cough out.

"Malfoy's going to kill us."

Ron was already backing away towards the door so he could open it.

"Don't," Hermione instantly ordered, causing Ron to take his hand off the doorhandle. "If the others smell this, they'll know we're doing something big."

"I think they figured that out from the house-elves," Ron pointed out but didn't reach for the handle again. Instead, he lifted his free hand to cover the one on his face as if the extra layer would help stop the penetrating horrible smell.

"Dobby," Harry called out and the elf was there in an instant. Dobby caught one whiff of the odour and pinched his own nose to protect him. From what Harry could see of the others, they were getting a bit green in the face. Ron had taken to gagging and Hermione didn't seem too far behind. "Please, _please_, can you get rid of this smell?" The question had been asked before Dobby could even ask what he was wanted for.

With a snap of his fingers, Dobby had the air cleared of the disgusting aroma of a decaying soul. "Is there anything else, Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby asked, wiping at the tip of his nose for just a moment.

"No, thank you."

When Dobby disappeared, Ron reached out and opened the door just a smidgeon. "I can still smell it," he complained, poking his nose out for a moment to breathe in the pure air.

"I can still taste it," Harry agreed, removing the hand from his face and sticking his tongue out as if the scent of the potion had been brushed across it.

"I think you're imagining that," Hermione tutted and returned to the potion so she could see how effective it was. "The diadem is completely gone."

"It better be," Ron grumbled. Harry joined him at the door, breathing in a fresh lungful. "I do _not_ look forward to doing that again."

"Luckily, we can recycle the potion so Malfoy and I don't have to make it again, at least."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Maybe we should destroy the Horcruxes outside from now on."

Harry scoffed. "We'd kill everything in the Forbidden Forest with how bad that smells."

Hermione smiled at him and started to pack up the mess she and Malfoy had made. Closing the door, Ron made his way over to Hermione to help her out. The empty shells and the useless ends of plants were scraped into a bin Harry hadn't noticed and the chopping boards were cleaned with a quick spell.

Harry gave Ron the room he wanted and turned around to look at the bedside table that hadn't been removed with the bed. There was a handful of little knickknacks, which surprised Harry. It wasn't as if Malfoy could decorate this room with his belongings — most of them were at the Malfoy Manor and they had no intention of putting Malfoy back there. What was there mostly revolved around the single glass of water that he kept. There was also a quill, a rolled up newspaper from two days ago, a few lolly wrappers (that brought a smile to Harry's face), a business card and a pair of silver cufflinks. He picked up the cufflinks, though why a seventeen-year-old needed _cufflinks_ he didn't know, and looked them over. They were as elegant as one could expect from the Malfoy family, portraying an _M_ with a snake wrapped around it. He set them back down after running his fingers over the grooves of them, taking in all that remained of Draco's life as a Malfoy. His fingers flipped through the wrappers before he picked up the card. It really wasn't his business, but he was still curious as to what sort of card Malfoy would have kept all this time.

The card belonged to Wallace Graves, an Auror Harry had met a few times. He'd already tried to recruit him, but why would Malfoy have his details? He would have to ask him about it.

The sound of glass shattering, a scream, followed by a second crash and then giggles had Harry turning around to look at his best friends. It looked as if Hermione had accidentally spilled something (something he hoped wasn't dangerous) and had slipped in her attempt to jump back. She was now being held up by Ron, who had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, helping her get her balance back. They had the widest smiles on their faces and it was clear that Hermione didn't need as much help as Ron was giving her.

Grinning to himself, Harry quietly slipped out of the room, deciding to give them the privacy they so desperately needed.

"Why are you sneaking out?"

Harry jumped at Malfoy's voice as he tried his hardest to close the door without a sound.

"Do you mind?" Harry hissed but the grin was still there.

"What's going on in there?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow and tried to dodge Harry before Harry could shut the door completely. Harry was that tiny bit faster, meaning Malfoy would need his key to get in.

"Ron and Hermione are having a moment."

Malfoy cringed. "I'm suddenly very thankful I don't have my bed in there."

Rolling his eyes was Harry's appropriate response.

"When can I get my room back? It'll be morning soon."

"We'll give them a few minutes. You did give us permission to do what we wanted."

"I didn't expect you lot to christen my room."

Harry looked Malfoy over. The blonde was in casual clothes — black slacks and a simple jumper — and his hair was still a little wet from the shower. His high cheeks were flushed from the hot water, giving him more colour than usual, which Harry found to be overly appealing. It was nice to see that even though he couldn't see the sun, he could still produce a healthy colour.

"So you're done with your potion?"

"It worked."

Malfoy moved so he was leaning against the wall to Harry's right. "When you feel they've had enough time, you go in first. I have enough nightmares without having seen them snogging."

A chuckle came from Harry's throat. "Alright." Harry leant against the door. "Thank you, by the way. You've just put us one step closer to defeating Voldemort."

"My pleasure."

"You and Hermione make a great team, you know?"

Malfoy scoffed. "It was a one-time-only deal, Potter." He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. "How's the weather been like lately?"

"I wouldn't know. We've been cooped up inside these past few days trying to figure this out."

"Well don't," Malfoy demanded. "I'd do anything to be outside during the day. Don't take it for granted."

Harry's eyes focused on Malfoy, who was looking out along the corridor, keeping his face away from Harry. Taking a deep breath, Harry reached out and tugged Malfoy's left hand out of his pocket so he could lace their fingers together. "I won't. I'll go out in the morning just for you."

The hand in his own tightened in response, but Malfoy didn't look at him.

It was only Malfoy's hand that kept Harry standing straight when the door opened on him, threatening to pull him in the way it had earlier. The moment Harry started to fall back, Malfoy jumped to action, grabbing onto his right hand with both his hands and yanking him up so Harry rocked towards him.

"S-sorry," Ron apologised, but the smile on his face as he looked over the two teens who were now pressed against each other implied otherwise. "Wow. That was fast, Malfoy. You should have been a Keeper, yeah?"

"I would have been a hell of a lot better than you, Weasel," Malfoy reasoned. His left hand and Harry's right were still clamped together while Harry's left arm was wrapped around Malfoy's waist, almost as if they'd been slow dancing again. Even though Ron was pointedly looking at their hands, neither moved to untangle their fingers.

"Sure." The sarcasm wasn't lost on anyone. "I was gonna find you, Harry."

"Okay," said Harry and he slowly pulled away from his…well; Harry wasn't sure what to call Malfoy… Whatever he was, he let go of Harry's hand and followed him into his room.

Everything but the potion and Malfoy's knives had been packed away, leaving Harry to wonder why he'd given Ron and Hermione any space at all. Had they really used his absence to clean up? He shook his head pathetically and let out a deep sigh.

"Why didn't you give the knives to Winky?" Harry asked, not wanting Draco anywhere near them.

"They're pristine, Harry," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "They're not cleaned and sharpened by a house-elf. These are the knives of a professional."

He turned around to face Malfoy. "You'll be cleaning them, then?"

Malfoy's response was haughty and nothing like the Malfoy he'd been standing with out in the hallway. "Of course. Granger's right. I don't let anyone clean and sharpen them but me."

It was then that Hermione yawned behind her hand. "Maybe you should go to bed, Hermione," Harry suggested, realising that she'd been up all day and night. "I'll stay with Malfoy and finish up here."

"I just need to grab this potion," she objected, causing Malfoy to raise an eyebrow again.

"Really? You need to use this again?"

"Several times, unfortunately."

With a groan, Malfoy started to go through some of the beakers and vials on the other side of the room, lifting each one up and examining it before moving on to the next. When he finally found what he was looking for, he returned to Hermione's side and handed it over. "This should work."

"It's glass," Hermione replied, looking it over. It was a simple glass vial that looked like it could hold a few cups of liquid.

"It's _charmed_. A glass vial isn't as suspicious as a silver one."

"And you just conveniently had one?" Harry asked.

"I'm a Malfoy. Everything that's suspicious is conveniently within reach," Malfoy deadpanned. "Go ahead and use it. It's not like it was getting any use here."

Nodding her head, Hermione set it down on the table and started to ladle in the potion. The diadem had completely melted down — nothing solid remained.

"It looks like it did the job perfectly," Malfoy commented, realising that the potion was, indeed, nothing but liquid.

Realising how close the Slytherin was to the desk, Harry grabbed him by the back of his shirt and pulled him towards the furthest wall. "Come on, you."

"I'm not that clumsy," Hermione chided Harry, understanding that Harry was pulling Malfoy away from danger. "I'm not going to spill any on him."

There was a thick smattering of blush covering Harry's cheeks, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm no damsel in distress, Potter," Malfoy grumbled.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to ask you something anyway."

"Okay, se we're done here, aren't we, Hermione?" Ron pushed, already grabbing the brunette by her shoulders and steering her out of the room. With a final wave, which was returned with an unimpressed stare from Harry, he and Hermione disappeared out into the hallway.

Malfoy blinked after them for a moment before he turned to Harry. "Is he expecting a proposal or something?"

"I don't even know anymore."

"He seems over supportive of us forming a relationship. I never thought he'd want to see us together."

Harry's hand tightened on Malfoy's arm before letting go. "He thinks you're good for me, I guess."

Malfoy couldn't hold back the bark of laughter. "How am I possibly good for you? I'm a Death Eater and all that drama."

"You apparently make me happy." The blush from a few moments ago returned and Malfoy shared it. "So I wanted to ask you about Wallace Graves. I saw his card on your table. What are you doing with an Auror's details?"

Malfoy's face instantly turned into a frown and he stepped away from Harry so he could make sure the door was closed properly.

"Wallace Graves was someone I met in a nightmare," he explained.

Worry hit Harry hard. "No. You've got his card here. Maybe you spoke with him and had a nightmare about him later."

Malfoy was shaking his head before Harry had finished his sentence. "I've ever seen him out of the nightmare." He was pacing now.

Trying to prove his point, Harry grabbed the small rectangle of text and showed it to his potential partner. "Do you see this?" he asked, moving so he could hold on with his free hand. "I've got it right here. The card is real and not from a dream."

Malfoy pushed him away. "It's not real. I never went for a jog, Professor Snape never talked to me and I never met Auror Graves." It was obvious that this was disturbing Malfoy. He'd gone much whiter than his normal pale shade and was shaking despite the firm hold Harry had on him.

"Okay. Okay," Harry shushed. "Winky." The house-elf appeared on his command. "I need you to turn everything back." With a click of her fingers, the tables covered in brewing utensils were gone and the bed was back. "Thank you," Harry said and gently steered Malfoy towards the bed so they were sitting side by side.

"Is there anything else Master Draco wants Winky to do?" Winky offered, placing a hand on Malfoy's knee. The blonde jumped and lashed out, grabbing Winky by her slim wrist and throwing her aside. It didn't deter her, though. She stood proud. "It is alright, Master Draco. Winky is not trying to hurt Master Draco at all…"

"Get the fuck away from me, Malfoy snapped, curling into his body.

"Hey," Harry soothed, reaching out for Malfoy's hand. "What's wrong?"

"This is another nightmare."

"No it's not," Winky objected. Her voice was as soft and as kind as it could be, given her pitch.

"I've got him from here, Winky, but you could be massively helpful if you took his knife set to Professor Slughorn to clean. Just tell him he'd be doing me a favour, alright?" At first, Winky seemed hesitant. "Look, Draco's knives are very special to him so he'd want no one but the best to take care of them, right? I don't trust him with knives at the moment. Do you?"

That was all it took for the house-elf. "Winky will be back at dawn to make sure Master Draco is safe in bed, sir, Winky will."

And with that, she disappeared from the room.

"I want my knives." The closest description for how Malfoy said that would be to say that he was pouting.

"Winky told me you've stabbed her before."

Malfoy tsked. "I've never stabbed anything. What I stabbed was the Winky in my dreams."

"Then why do you want them now?"

The way Malfoy was twitching and eyeing the room bothered Harry. He kept looking at the door, the fireplace and the window, as if he was expecting something to materialise there and eat him up.

"I'm in another dream, obviously."

Harry cleared his throat and scooted closer but Malfoy slipped back. "Not so close. I get it."

"It wouldn't be the first time I let you get close and you turned out to be the monster."

"Oh." Harry glanced around him. "Am I alright here, though?"

"You're in the way. I can't see the fireplace properly anymore. The monster used it to enter my room before and I like to keep an eye on every opening."

So Harry shuffled back to where he was before. "Better?" Malfoy nodded his head after checking. "Now, can you tell me why you think this is a nightmare?"

"The one and only time I met Wallace Graves was in a nightmare and for his card to be on my table…it means that I'm back in another dream about him."

"How was it a nightmare?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "After I checked in on you, I turned around and my monster but my head off. Literally."

It made sense, but it also confused Harry. If Malfoy's only interaction with Graves was in a dream, how did his card — the physical proof of him being there at some point — find its way into Malfoy's room, mixed in with his belongings?

"Maybe you can run me through the dream, because I'm pretty sure we're still awake and that this is reality."

Knowing that Malfoy was so confused burned Harry's insides like he'd been stabbed with a red-hot poker.

"Why would I want to do that?" Malfoy asked haughtily.

"I just want to clear a few things up. We've talked about them before." He reached for Malfoy's hand again. "Please?"

Eyes glued to their joined hands, Malfoy took in a deep breath and decided to explain it. "I went for a run. You were looking for Ravenclaw's old belongings in a book and you wanted to know about the crown." Harry's hand tightened but Malfoy ignored him. "I left you after I told you where it was. I went down to the Lake with Auror Graves and jogged for a few hours. Sometime during my jog, Professor Snape found me and gave me a package to give to you. He didn't know I was going to be there, but he was waiting for the werewolf. This proves it was a nightmare — they're courting. Why they'd be fucking even in my nightmares, I'll never know.

"Afterwards, I returned to Auror Graves and he told me that he was teaching rookie Aurors how I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and how to stop it the next time someone does that. He then told me that he would sponsor me, more or less, if I decided I wanted to be an Auror after my one true love kisses me. Why would anyone want me to join the Aurors? You'd reckon I'd be the last person they'd want."

"Maybe they want someone with your talent. You and Hermione just made an impossible potion…"

"Even my subconscious is that self-centred?" A scoff came from his throat dryly. "No wonder you _need time_."

"Hey," Harry objected straight away, holding on to Malfoy's hand with both of his. "Me needing time has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. I don't want you to think like that anymore." He tried to catch Malfoy's eye, but Malfoy turned his gaze away. He sighed, realising that Malfoy was convinced this was a dream. "Okay, so where'd you put what Snape gave you?"

Malfoy shrugged and glanced around. "What does it matter?"

"Even if this is just a dream, it's for me, right?"

"I don't know where I put it." Malfoy ran his free hand through his hair. "I can't even remember bringing it back to my room. The monster got me before I got back."

"Well, do you mind if I look around?"

Instantly, Malfoy started to shake his head from side to side. "No, no, you can't do that." This time, his hand turned around in Harry's pair to hold on tightly. "I don't want to see you..." He swallowed and loosened his grip. "The monster likes to strike when you're opening the wardrobe or drawers. Its favourite place is under my bed. You're not allowed to look for anything."

"Okay," Harry repeated. "How about I stay with you here, then?"

"I'd appreciate that very much."

* * *

**Superlong chapter is superlong. Feedback is always appreciated.**


	14. Chapter Fourteen: To Breathe

**Sorry it's late. I've not been home for several days and getting to a computer's been difficult, but I'm here and I'm exhausted, but I'm posting and being quite apologetic. My baby sister was in Melbourne for the week, so I spent most of it with her and our older sister in St Kilda and then got horribly drunk at my first ever work function and now I'm bruised and sore and still a little bit unwell… My boss's boss's boss's boss told me, however, that when I'm permanent, she'll get me any job I want, so I guess it turned out alright XD**

**Felice09: This entire chapter is dedicated to you. I'd decided that the moment I'd read your review. **

**To everyone else: I'm so glad you're all on the 'just kiss him already' and the 'I'm so confused!' bandwagon I've been trying to set up. Thanks for the reviews. They let me know that I'm doing the right thing.**

**Warning: Slashy-limey-goodness for our boys.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter fourteen of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: To Breathe**

* * *

Harry never found the package. Despite searching for it during the day, Harry could never figure out where Malfoy had stashed it. Malfoy had no idea that it had been reality and Harry had no chance of telling him that it was.

So several days later, it didn't surprise Harry at all that he was there when the sun went down, bringing Malfoy back into the conscious world.

"Good morning," Harry greeted, perched on the side of the bed as he helped Malfoy out of the nightmare. Fingers twined and palms touched faces, helping Malfoy get a grasp on where he was. Harry made sure to brush away the tears from Malfoy's long lashes to stop them from falling properly.

"Morning," Malfoy croaked out, not at all minding the press of Harry's hand against his cheek.

"How are you?"

Malfoy rolled over, away from Harry and cuddled into one of his pillows. "Horrible." More tears spilled as he tried to hide his face. "I'm sick of seeing everyone die."

"We're all alright."

A sniffle came from the blonde as Harry leant over to him, pressing their bodies together, playfully looking for Malfoy's face under his wispy locks. "You can't be sure about my family."

That was true. "I think I'd have felt it from Voldemort if anything happened to your parents." Also, Harry was certain Snape would get through to him to let him know.

Then again, that would meant he'd have to talk to Snape and Harry wasn't too sure if he wanted that to happen. If Malfoy was right about the package and Wallace, then he'd have to be right about Snape and Remus sleeping together and Harry wasn't sure what he thought of that. It would be nice to have Remus to talk to about his new-found sexuality, but Snape? Tonks was pregnant with Remus' child, yet he was sneaking around behind her back with a man they couldn't admit was actually on the light side of the war — a man the Marauders tortured relentlessly. It made no sense that Remus would have an affair with a man he's supposedly hated all his life and for that man to actually allow Remus to be near him.

This had to be the craziest year of Harry's life yet, and given Harry's less-than-average life, that was one hell of a feat.

Malfoy was really helping that out. He was shaking with sobs as he tried to get over the scenes from his latest dream but he wasn't shying away from Harry's touch. When Harry's fingertips tickled over the prickles of Malfoy's unshaven cheeks and chin, he felt the sudden urge to press his open mouth along that jaw-line and those beautiful cheek bones, but he stopped himself. Kissing Malfoy was out of the question.

But the urge helped prove how crazy Harry's life was.

"How long has it been since you shaved?" Harry asked once Malfoy finally stopped weeping into his pillow.

"Three days. Is it that bad?"

"Dunno," Harry murmured, now trying to move Malfoy's face so he could see. "Let me have a look."

Malfoy let Harry's hand guide him and tipped his head towards Harry. His facial hair had barely poked through the skin, barely visible with how fine and white it was, but Harry couldn't say that he didn't like how it looked.

"What?"

Harry looked away from the line of fuzz to meet Malfoy's grey eye, which was focused on him and him alone. "I'm just realising that I might be a little gay."

That eye rolled and the skin of his lips stretched into a smile. "So you like that I'm looking a little manlier than usual?"

"It's not such a bad look."

"Oh look. We turned each other into faggots."

"I'm not saying I like it on other guys, though," Harry objected. "Just you."

The way Malfoy's cheeks and the tips of his ears reddened had Harry's stomach twirling.

That was the moment Winky decided to pop in, startling Harry and making him jump back in such a way that it scared the elf, who proceeded to lose her grip on the tray of food she had, tipping it over Harry and Malfoy so that they were doused with warm porridge and bacon.

Instantly, Malfoy shot up from the bed, dripping with his gooey breakfast, and started yelling at the house-elf for her incompetence and Harry was suddenly reminded of the old Malfoy.

"Hey," Harry soothed, slipping across the bed to grab on to Malfoy's arm to turn him around to face Harry. "It wasn't her fault I scared her." A glob of oats fell from Malfoy's cheek down to his chest, causing Malfoy to turn his murderous eyes to Harry.

Winky was already on her knees, cleaning the mess as she wept out her apologies, telling him that she'd staple her ears as soon as she served him another breakfast.

"There's no need," Harry argued, doing what he could to calm the two of them down. He quickly cast a cleaning charm on his crush, removing the porridge with a wave of his hand before he did the same for himself. "See? Everything's better already. Winky, can you bring him a new plate please? And don't hurt yourself."

Wracked with full-body shakes, Winky squeaked an affirmative before disappearing.

When Harry looked Malfoy's way, Malfoy felt his stomach drop. "You're not happy with me," he observed bleakly, sitting and waiting for his breakfast.

"I'm not a big fan of people who terrorise the others around them. I know what it's like to be scared of your 'master'."

Malfoy rolled his eyes this time. "Yeah, and I wouldn't have a clue about that." His hand was on his left forearm.

"I didn't mean it that way. I was treated like a house-elf in my home. I can relate to Winky. She was trying to take care of you — which is something I can understand. She didn't deserve to be yelled at."

"Well, there's a lot of this 'doesn't deserve' shit going around."

"…so you're taking your anger out on her?"

It was becoming harder for Malfoy to sit still. A fight was clearly on its way. "No. I'm being _myself_. When a house-elf does something wrong, they're punished. That's how it goes."

"So you are just like them, aren't you? You couldn't kill and now you're being punished."

Cold grey eyes snapped up to him, burning with a hate Harry hadn't seen in a long time. "That's different."

"Why? You gave yourself over to servitude the exact same way. It's in your blood like it is for Winky. You couldn't pull through with your master's orders — maybe you should staple your ears. It's no different just because you're human and she's not."

Malfoy stood up and pointed at the door. "You can fuck off."

"Why?" Harry kept his tone soft. "Because someone's telling you off for the first time in your life?"

"Because you're supposed to be my…" Malfoy stopped and averted his eyes.

"Your what? Your friend? Your lover?"

"You're not meant to make me feel bad about myself. You're my _good_ thing and good things don't hurt you." He couldn't face Harry and was now looking out to the Lake.

"Relationships aren't about feeling amazing all the time," Harry said gently. "Sometimes, the person you love can anger you just as much as they make you smile."

"Then we're perfect, aren't we?"

Harry approached him and placed his hand on Draco's wrist, trying to get Malfoy to look up at him. "Yeah."

Winky appeared then with a new tray of food. Before she could spill it anywhere, she put it on Malfoy's desk and sobbed her way through a further apology.

"Masters Draco and Harry, Winky is very sorry for spilling the food and ruining breakfast and dirtying the master's clothes. Winky is knowing she deserves to have her…"

"It's alright, Winky," Harry accepted. "I'm sorry I scared you, which lead to you dropping the tray." Her massive eyes welled up and the tears streamed down like a waterfall. Her voice got higher and hoarser as she insisted Harry had done nothing to deserve the blame. It took everything Harry had to calm her down before he looked at Malfoy. "I think you owe her an apology."

"No way in hell, Potter," Malfoy objected, already settling down for breakfast.

"Malfoy…"

"No. I'm not trying to change you, despite your many flaws. You should be courteous enough to do the same for me. She didn't do her job adequately. You're lucky I'm not demanding she sticks pins through her nose."

Honestly, Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to know if Malfoy had actually ordered that of his previous house-elves. It made him think of Dobby and the torture Dobby had obviously been placed under and he couldn't understand how someone who'd been beaten into a bloody pulp could consider doing the same thing to another being. He just had to accept that the boy he had feelings for wasn't perfect.

With a sigh, Harry walked around to the other side of the bed and sat down, facing Malfoy's back. He reached out to wrap his fingers around the hand Malfoy had on the desk as he used his right hand to scoop the porridge. The response was instant — Malfoy's hand turned up and his fingers slipped through Harry's.

"You're reconsidering everything now, aren't you?" Malfoy muttered.

"I don't think so. It's not like I can turn this off, you know?"

"There are so many reasons why this is so bad."

"I'm very aware of that. Nothing about my life is easy and I wouldn't expect a relationship with you to be any different."

Malfoy swallowed and Harry wasn't so sure it was food-related; not with his next sentence. "So you want us to be in a relationship, then? Boyfriends, or whatever?"

Flushing, Harry nodded his head. "I'd like that quite a bit."

Finally, Malfoy looked over his shoulder at Harry. "I'd like that too. But…but I want to be able to kiss the person I'm dating."

It was a rejection, but not one that had Harry feeling ridiculed or unhappy. He was the one who'd made the decision to not kiss Malfoy just yet. If Malfoy had to wait for Harry to understand his own feelings, then Harry would have to wait before he and Malfoy had those titles.

"Alright," Harry resigned.

So Malfoy finished off what he was eating and turned in his seat. "I need to ask something of you."

"Okay."

"I want to have a shower."

Harry instantly shook his head. "It's too early. The other boys will see you."

"I know."

"And besides, I cleaned you off."

A snort came from Malfoy. "A cleaning spell isn't as good as the real thing," he pointed out. "I want a proper shower after having porridge poured all over me."

"Other boys would be showering now. You can't be seen by them. They'd kill you."

"Can't you disguise me or something?"

"As what? The new kid with the Dark Mark?" Harry took a moment to consider their options. "I can get you there, but I'd have to be in the shower stall with you."

"Pervert."

Harry's entire face burned pink. "No! My Invisibility Cloak can cover you getting there, but it's not like the showers work on their own. I'll have to pretend that it's actually me who's showering."

"I still can't get over how you have one of them."

"It was my dad's."

"Well, I accept your offer. Grab it and let's go."

* * *

This might not have been the greatest idea Harry had ever had. In fact, it could have been his worst. They'd gotten to the bathroom with Malfoy travelling on his heels, making sure he didn't bump into any unwanted people on the way and Harry didn't have an issue with that. When he and Draco were locking in the stall together, Harry was suddenly reminded of the only time he'd ever showered with another person and how different his thoughts had been back then.

He was openly seeking a relationship with this man and now he was set to get wet and naked with him? And they weren't allowed to kiss?

The thought had him swelling in his pants, and by Merlin, what was new. He'd been aware of his attraction for Malfoy for a long time now but when did it start being a sexual thing and he just got a hard-on just thinking about this guy and that wasn't something that had ever happened to Harry before. He was physically aroused by Malfoy and he hadn't taken off the _Invisibility Cloak_ yet.

Fucking hormones.

Realising that his pants were getting tighter and tighter, Harry decided on sitting on the small shelf and covering his lap with the towels and the fresh clothes he was meant to change into.

When Malfoy finally removed the Invisibility Cloak, he was much closer to Harry than he'd expected and he was trying to hide behind that famous stony mask, but Harry could see the slight stretch in his lips and the tension in his jaw that told him that he was worried.

"I'm fine," Harry whispered, knowing better than to speak too loudly. There were still other boys in the bathroom and it was damn embarrassing to put up a silencing charm — they'd all think he was having a wank (though that wasn't such a bad idea…).

Malfoy apparently accepted this because he started to strip off after putting his spare clothes on the spot on the bench next to Harry.

Harry's entire face burned red but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the long, nimble fingers now popping buttons through matching holes, flashing a thin line of white flesh that became darker with hair past his exposed bellybutton. It was as if Malfoy hadn't noticed Harry's obvious dilemma or that they had just discussed becoming boyfriends.

And that shirt was now completely gone, giving Harry the greatest of views of the blonde's slim torso. He was skinny — Harry had no doubt that the strips of bacon in today's breakfast were more about fattening him up — but again, Harry found his attention to linger on the scars there — the ones he had no doubts about. Sharp white lines were carved into his skin a year ago, in the bathroom, and weren't ever going to not be there.

A hand caught his chin, forcing him to turn his head up and look away. He instantly felt horrible, knowing that Malfoy wouldn't have liked for anyone to stare at the unsightly scars that way.

"Sorry," he breathed.

Malfoy just shook his head and reached for Harry. He pulled him into standing, knowing that Harry couldn't be loud. Then he wickedly grabbed the hem of Harry's own shirt and tugged on it, smirking as Harry did what he could to fight back against him silently.

"It's not like we've never showered together before," Malfoy pointed out, leaning in close to Harry to whisper it into his ear.

"You won't be my boyfriend but you'll get naked with me anyway?"

"They'll be suspicious if you're completely dry when you get out of the shower." The smirk grew as he shrugged his shoulders and tugged harder.

He had a point and they both knew it. Only, Harry hadn't calmed any and the last thing that he really wanted to do was to be naked in a shower with Malfoy (well, that's what he told himself). So he turned and dropped his clothes onto Malfoy's and let the Slytherin remove his jumper and the t-shirt he wore underneath. His hands dropped down to stop Malfoy's eyes from seeing his erection.

This time, now that they were shirtless together, Malfoy's eyes roamed the skin he saw before him. It was so different to the last shower, where they felt nothing for each other. Knowing that emotions were shared between the two of them made it more intense, like they were crossing boundaries they weren't meant to cross just yet. Last time, when Harry's hands brushed Malfoy's naked skin, it was nothing. It was an accident that had nothing behind it. Now, Harry's fingers could come in contact with Malfoy's flesh and it would be so much more than just an accident.

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought that maybe it would feel like fireworks if he touched Malfoy's exposed body now. It would feel like his fingertips were burning and his stomach was swirling and even maybe that he might die because it would just feel _too_ good.

Malfoy took a step back and undid his own belt. He wasn't looking at Harry, not forcing him into anything, and Harry knew it. The stall wasn't so large that they could get away with not being too close, making it more awkward than Harry liked. There was a clink as Malfoy's trousers dropped to the tiled floor, causing Harry to jump as if he wasn't a Gryffindor destined to kill the greatest dark wizard of all time.

Again, Malfoy raised his eyebrow and forced Harry to look him in the eye. "Are you alright?"

Hearing it spoken was enough convincing Harry needed. Malfoy was worried enough to vocalise it, which was as uncharacteristic as the blonde got. He groaned and moved his hands away from his crotch, letting Malfoy see what his nakedness was doing to him. A shiver ran down Harry's spine when he saw those silver eyes flicker down to take in the hard shape that was Harry's cock.

"Oh." Malfoy took a single step backwards and that made Harry feel a little better. It was relieving to know that Malfoy was just as freaked out about it as Harry was.

"Sorry. I can't help it." Standing in only his boxers, Malfoy brought his arms up to cover his body. "Just shower," Harry said, already reaching out to the taps. The spray was instantly cold, drenching his arm in a cool shock that finally had him softening a little. "I promise I won't look." It didn't surprise him at all that Malfoy said nothing about him throwing his shirt back on.

Instead, Malfoy's hand reached out and grabbed the back of his neck, throwing him headfirst under the flow of the water. Naturally, Harry yelped.

"Son of a bitch!"

Malfoy shoved Harry up against the wall and slapped his hand over Harry's mouth, grinning like a wild man as he pressed their bodies together.

"Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened at Seamus' voice from the other side of the locked door. With a smirk, Malfoy dropped his hand down and his eyes flickered at the door, indicating that Harry should answer him.

"Y-yeah, Seamus," Harry stammered, loving how close Malfoy actually was to him.

"You alright?"

"I just slipped. That's all."

There was a snicker. "Yeah? Because it kinda sounded like you and your boyfriend were having sex in there. You treat him right, Malfoy."

Even Malfoy's face darkened at that.

"Seamus!"

"We're the only ones in here, Harry. It's okay."

The stall started to get misty with steam as the water heated up. With a touch of his fingertip, Harry prevented his glasses from fogging up with a simple spell. His glasses were always something that hindered him, so he'd learnt ways to get around it. The actual procedure to fix his eyes was something he'd need to see a professional about and he really didn't have the time for that.

"Silencing charms are appreciated, boys," Dean taunted.

They blushed as they looked at each other. "Do-do you guys mind not talking to us as if we're an us?" Harry suggested through his teeth. "Someone could hear."

"You don't want to come out, even to us? Because we already know."

Harry shrugged out of Malfoy's hold then so he could unlock the door and stick his sopping head out. "There's no 'coming out' to be done. Other boys could come in and overhear and there'd be rumours…"

"Rumours about you doing naughty things with another guy?" Seamus asked. "It's only a rumour if it isn't true."

Harry wasn't shocked at all to see all four from his dorm standing around in the centre.

"Besides, Prefect Thomas here waved his badge around and blocked anyone else from coming in here."

"Apparently, a dying tulip had a bad reaction to the cure I tried on it and now I'm covered in stinky pollen-pus," Neville explained. "Ron used a handful of Fred and George's products to make sure it smelt like it, too."

"Why…?"

"We figured that if Malfoy was gonna be showering, you might want have wanted some help with it," Ron explained. "It can't be easy being a fugitive showering in the enemy's bathroom."

Harry returned back into the stall to look at his potential partner. Malfoy was just as baffled but it was his body language that intrigued Harry. The boy was standing behind the door, covering his chest with his long, pale forearms. He was being defensive, clearly not wanting these people — who he'd never considered to be his friends — to see the scars that he didn't even want the person he loved to see.

"So, you know, you can shag him silly if you want, but keep in mind that we're out here until he's all clean."

"You have issues, Seamus."

"As I said before, silencing charms are greatly encouraged and appreciated"

Harry sneezed, suddenly reminding himself and Malfoy that he was shoved under the cold spray.

"I can shower on my own," Malfoy said, loud enough for the hoard of Gryffindors to hear. He then all about threw Harry's clothes and towels to him and pushed him out the door. It was so quick that the boys didn't get a chance to get a glimpse of him.

Thankfully, everything that had happened — the cold water and the further interruptions — had calmed Harry's body _down_. Unfortunately, he'd just been thrown out of what could have been a bloody good shower and his friends were all grinning like idiots because they'd all witnessed his apparent rejection.

"Well, this is awkward," Seamus claimed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

* * *

Later, when Harry was sure Malfoy was back in his room, he returned to it himself. It couldn't have been any later than eight, but he went back to him under the pretence of wanting his Invisibility Cloak back. The boys were surprisingly alright with Malfoy keeping it for the moment.

"Aren't you cold?" Harry hissed, eyeing the way Malfoy was lounging against his fluffy pillows at the headboard. He was in a black turtle-neck skivvy and simple black slacks but the sleeves were rolled up and his feet were bare, reading the newspaper. His hair was still wet from his shower and likely cold. Despite the roaring fire (Harry was unsure how Malfoy managed to get himself a fireplace!), Harry was still freezing and was wearing his warmest clothes.

"I've always loved the winter," Malfoy said with a very gentle smile.

"Right. Dungeons." Harry shivered, causing Malfoy to raise an eyebrow.

"Come here."

Harry didn't think twice about it and quickly crawled on the bed. Malfoy removed his army of pillows, making room for Harry behind him. They slotted in with each other perfectly. Harry's arms wrapped around Malfoy's waist easily and for a while they just read together.

"It's a stupid move for them to fire him," Malfoy grumbled, pointing at the Quidditch article he was talking about.

"He's easily the worst beater in the league," Harry objected.

"True, but the younger players really look up to him."

"They have a captain for that."

Malfoy turned slightly. "Everyone knows he's the preferred captain."

Harry tutted but kept on reading. "Oh, I see. He's a pure blood."

"He has better leadership skills."

The way he said it told Harry that he thought it was more important than being a pure blood without saying it. It made Harry proud to know that Malfoy was changing like that.

The pain of it was, though, the Dark Mark would forever exist on Malfoy's skin. As Harry thought about it, his eyes were drawn to the ghastly tattoo of thick, black lines. He ran his fingers over it, stealing Malfoy's attention. The blonde flinched and shifted in Harry's arms so he could look at him properly.

"Sorry," Harry quickly apologised, but didn't removed his hand. Instead, he traced the raised lines with his nails.

"It's just…no one's ever intentionally touched it before. Not even I have, really…"

"Did it hurt?"

"I thought my whole arm was going to catch on fire and burn to ash." Harry's free arm tightened around the slim waist. "It still hurts sometimes. I can feel when he's summoning us for a meeting."

"I know."

"It can't ever be removed. Even when he dies, it'll only fade. The last time he was gone, my father's faded to a grey outline but it never disappeared."

"What will you do? Do glamours work?"

"Barely. But you have to cast them every day. And some Ministry buildings have wards that give out alarms if someone wearing a glamour enters."

Harry bent his head into Malfoy's neck and sighed before he was hit with an idea. "Wait here," he grinned, slipping away. Part of him hated having to leave Malfoy (especially the now-frozen part of him), but he loved this plan.

Similarly, Malfoy's objection disappeared the moment he saw Harry's grin. So he went back to reading.

Harry just about ran down the stairs, barrelling past a few of the younger students, which had them instantly scared. If there was something the great Boy-Who-Lived was running from, what did it mean for the rest of them?

"It's okay," he reassured them quickly, turning back with that grin on his face.

He considered himself lucky when he got downstairs to the common room and found Hermione there.

"Hermione! Hey, do you have any black biros I can borrow?"

* * *

Malfoy had barely gotten through two articles when Harry returned, grinning like the lunatic he was.

"What have you done now?"

"I got you a cure."

"For which one of my many ailments, dumpling?"

"Your Dark Mark, pudding."

And so Harry returned to his place and propped Malfoy's arm up on his thigh. He whipped the pen from his pocket and uncapped it dramatically, causing Malfoy to roll his eyes, despite the smile on his face.

"You intend to deface the Dark Mark?"

"Yup."

"Marry me."

"You won't be my boyfriend but you'll propose to me? You'll have to get me a really manly ring."

Malfoy snickered and Harry threaded his right arm around Malfoy's body so he could draw on his left arm.

He was very gentle on the soft skin as he doodled, drawing the outline of a Mohawk.

"Oh, very nice, Mister Potter-Malfoy."

"Malfoy-Potter sounds better."

Harry pressed in harder as he started to colour it in.

"Ow! No, the wedding's off!"

"You break my heart," Harry chuckled but lightened up when Malfoy started to flinch and squirm. "Sorry," he muttered into Draco's hair.

"It's gonna take a lot more than that to get me to propose again," Malfoy grumbled, watching Harry's hand work.

"Hmmm…I am the sold inheritor of two massive Gringotts vaults filled with galleons."

"Marry me?"

* * *

He knew he was dreaming. Straight away, Harry knew he was in a dream that was blissfully untouched by Voldemort's evil mind. It had to be a dream because he wouldn't be kissing Draco in reality.

But there they were, Harry and the Draco he was dreaming about, on Draco's bead, wrapped up in each other and the sheets, kissing.

In Harry's imagination, Malfoy tasted like the honey he sometimes saw on his porridge; he smelt like he always did, if not a bit muskier; his hair was as soft as Harry knew it to be and his body was warm and hard and apparently naked.

Yes. This was a dream.

It was the first time that his dreams included Draco and it was definitely the first time he'd dreamt about sex with a boy, but when Draco suckled on his tongue and he pushed his thigh up to caress his cock, Harry realised that he did not mind at all.

They were side by side, chest to chest, as mouths learnt and fingers explored.

Harry groaned when Draco's mouth left his and the blonde started to mouth at his neck, running his tongue over the skin Harry's subconscious thought was sensitive. He was left gasping as Draco turned him on his back and started to kiss his way down his chest. Hands — Harry's own — ran over Draco's shoulders and upper back, through his hair, down his neck and over his cheekbones until all he could reach was Draco's hair. The Slytherin was kissing every millimetre of him, dedicating hours to his tensed thighs, knees, calves and ankles before returning to his hips and stomach.

Every time Harry dared to open his eyes to watch his erotic dream-lover, he was blown away by the way Draco's eyes glimmered with love and were darkened with arousal. More than once, Harry had felt the wet tip of Draco's manhood bump into his leg as the blonde worked him into a frenzy.

Harry's entire body jolted when Draco started to suck on the inside of his thigh, biting down and pressing hard with his tongue — everything he could to leave a mark there — to say that Harry was his and that no one else would have him.

His subconscious believed him to be a loud lover because when Draco's mouth finally slipped around the head of his cock, Harry shouted. He wasn't sure what he shouted, but he heard a noise and felt his throat go raw afterwards so he guessed and _oh_…

Dream-Draco was wonderful. He took Harry in and sucked so hard Harry was frightened the other boy would pull his brain out of his head through his prick.

And then Draco let off, bobbing his head with less pressure, letting his tongue and his saliva-drenched hand do all the work. Even though Harry had never done anything sexual, he was sure that the Draco in his dreams was a lot more practised than the real Draco because he's supposed to have a gag-reflex, right? And guys with a gag-reflex couldn't possibly…

Harry clenched his fists in the sheets and understood what Draco had meant when he cursed 'fuck me sideways'.

Harry's eyes rolled to the back of his head when he felt Draco move further down his shaft, taking him so deep that Harry felt the soft, hot walls of Draco's throat. They constricted — Draco was literally swallowing him whole — forcing Harry to finally speak in one rushed breath (though he wasn't sure how he actually managed to breathe to begin with…).

"…"

Draco's tongue flicked against that pulsing vein one last time before he drew back and pressed a kiss to the crown.

Harry took all of one second of looking at him with his flushed cheeks, blown eyes, messed hair and wet, crimson lips before his hands were slipping on Draco's sweat-drenched skin in his attempt to pull him up for more kisses. Oh, Dream Harry was addicted to Dream Draco's mouth. Their kisses were slow and consuming until Harry had calmed; Draco's arms were around Harry's shoulders and head while Harry let his hand drop to tease his lover, stroking and pumping like he actually knew what he was doing. It apparently didn't matter if he was a virgin or a porn star; Draco was mewling and tensing like he was seconds away from bursting at the seams.

When their mouths parted so Harry could brand Draco with his own love-bit, just under the jaw, Draco angled his head just right.

"Fuck me," he keened, moving with Harry's hand, pushing his hips up into that tight first that was driving him crazy.

And normally, Reality Harry would have paused and asked him if he was sure (at least, Harry thought he would but his brain was in his cock by now and not really functioning at its greatest potential), and sure, he realised they'd need lube and protection, but this, this _was_ a dream, so it made complete sense that Harry could just roll them over so Draco was on his back, line it up and sink into Draco's glorious warmth without worry. Dream Draco's body was made for him and accepted him — urged him in, holding him as if he was the most precious thing in Draco's world.

The mere implication took Harry's breath away.

He closed his eyes for just a moment to compose himself and when he opened them again, he saw…

He saw the blurred image of what must have been platinum blonde hair propped on a pillow.

Yes. It had been a dream.

A dream that had left him feeling like his pants were three sizes too small, mind you.

Harry sighed and tried to assess the situation. He was lying in Malfoy's bed, spooning the blonde, who was asleep. Malfoy wasn't moving, though, so Harry guessed it was still night time and the boy was having a nap.

Dear Merlin, he hoped Malfoy was napping.

Grunting, Harry pulled his hips away from where they were cradling Malfoy's arse, trying his hardest not to disturb Malfoy, but in his own world of focusing on the issue that was his inconvenient erection, he didn't realise where his right hand had been the entire time.

His arm was draped over Malfoy's waist innocently enough, but his hand was cupping Malfoy's hard…

Harry paused then, realising that he'd likely humped and molested his boy-crush in the middle of what would have been the greatest wet dream of his life, and that the body of his (hopefully) unconscious boy-crush had reacted quite pleasantly to his touch.

Taking a few deep breaths, Harry started to remove his hand when he heard it.

"Harry, please," Draco breathed, turning his head just that little bit. "I'm so close."

And with that one plea, Malfoy's hand pushed down on Harry's, forcing it back onto his heated prick.

"Are you sure?" Harry croaked out, really hoping for a positive answer as Draco wriggled back to press his rear against Harry's groin.

"Absolutely."

"…fuck."

Harry took action then, forcing Draco to turn around in his arms. Before Draco was even properly settled, his hands were grabbing for Harry's pants, pulling them down to expose the excited cock that had been thrusting up against him.

Jesus, Draco had long, strong fingers, Harry realised. All that time holding on to a broomstick really gave him an amazing grip.

Harry pressed his forehead against Draco's as he finally unzipped the Slytherin's slacks and pulled his cock out as well. They were looking at each other, so many emotions spilling forth, and Harry quickly found himself longing to kiss this beautiful being before him.

Draco obviously felt the same. "No…no kissing," he managed, struggling to get the words out as his breath hitched when Harry flicked his wrist.

Harry's free hand reached out and his fingers carded through Draco's hair.

"No kissing," he agreed, groaning as Draco's thumb circled the head to spread Harry's pre-come.

Their wrists were crossed and their hands moved faster and faster, matching the other's rhythm stroke for stroke until Draco started to babble nonsense, most of which was focused around Harry's name and then he was arching his back, scrunching his face, tightening his hold on Harry and spilling silently between them, splashing Harry's cock and hand with everything he had and triggering Harry's own stuttering release.

Minutes passed where the two of them struggled to get their breaths back and stop their hearts from breaking their rib cages. Draco was the first to move, gently pressing his head into Harry's left hand, which then fell to cup his cheek.

"That was…" Draco croaked out with a smile on his face. He swallowed as if his mouth was too dry and it was then that Harry realised that he could really go for a glass of water as well.

He focused on the glass Draco kept on his bedside table and it teetered over to them. A few drops fell onto Draco, but it was clear that it didn't bother him at all.

They both swallowed a mouthful and Harry cleaned and zipped them up wordlessly.

After that, Harry pulled Draco in closer to him, nuzzling him but remembering not to kiss him.

"I like it when you have wet dreams," Draco murmured.

Harry chuckled. "It _was_ about you."

"Better have been." He tucked his head under Harry's chin and stretched lazily. Harry fought the temptation to kiss Malfoy.

"How long was I asleep for?"

"A few hours."

Harry chuckled; his breath ruffled Malfoy's hair. "And yet I feel so tired all over again." Feeling Draco pressed up against him was a sensation unlike any other. "So I'm guessing you'll be sleeping soon."

"Not much longer until I'm off into crazy land." But he was smiling and it made Harry melt. "You'll kiss me now, won't you?"

And just like that, Harry's smile disappeared. "Malfoy…"

"What? You're the moral one. I don't think you would shag someone you don't love." Malfoy's smile was gone now, too, and he pushed himself away from Harry's body to sit up. Harry followed his example and knew that this was leading to a fight that he did not want to have.

"We didn't shag and I still need time."

This time, Malfoy got off the bed and glared angrily at Harry. "Is this because I'm a Death Eater?"

"What?"

"Did you pick the short straw? You were the one who was forced to trick evil Draco Malfoy into loving you so you and your Golden Trio can giggle and snicker at me while I go crazy and kill myself?"

A part of Harry was terrified of that last half, but the rest of him was furious at the implication. His cheeks flushed an angry red and his fists clenched by his side as he stood. The yelling happened without his consent.

"Do you honestly believe that's what this is about? Do you really think that I could put everything aside just so we could pull this horrible prank on you?"

"You're a Potter! You're one document away from being a Weasley! We've always hated each other and this is the perfect opportunity for you to get that final blow in. You gave me hope and there's nothing more painful than that!"

"And you think so little of me that you believe I'd do something like that?"

"I'd do it to you if the circumstances were different."

"Well, I'm a better human being than you are."

"That's what happens when you're literally whipped into order."

The words weren't meant to leave Malfoy's mouth — the shocked look on his face was proof enough of that.

And Harry's remark was meant to sting in return. "Maybe this is why your own mother abandoned you."

The glass exploded, sending sharp shards and water everywhere. Neither knew who did it but they were both thankful the bed was between them. If not, they'd probably ripped into each other's throats.

"Get the fuck out."

The order wasn't necessary; Harry had already decided he was going to leave anyway. He slammed the door behind him, not knowing that the moment he was gone, Malfoy fell to his knees and started to cry.

* * *

Ron despised being woken up but when he heard Harry's voice accompanying the shaking his shoulders were being subjected to, he forcibly blinked the haze away and was ready for whichever dire catastrophe Harry decided was more important than their friendship.

Immediately, his wand was in his hand, having been drawn out from under his pillow and he was ready to fight.

"Where're th'Death Eaters?" he slurred and realised that his mouth wasn't as awake as the rest of him.

"No Death Eaters," Harry promised, pressing down on Ron's wand hand to get him to lower the occasionally dangerous weapon.

"Then this better be good." There was a frown on his face.

Harry wriggled so he was sitting cross-legged, facing Ron.

"I just had sex with Malfoy."

The frown disappeared. "That classifies as good, right?"

"Extremely good. But then we had a fight. A horrible, horrible fight."

"You didn't kiss him, did you?"

"No. He asked me to kiss him in the morning."

"I think a kiss is a reasonable request from the guy you just gave your virginity to."

"It wasn't _really_ sex…"

Ron shuffled. "There isn't mid-ground on this one mate. I'm not asking for details, but you either did or you didn't."

"…didn't. We just…"

"…did something awesome. And then you fought because he wanted you to break the spell."

"We fought because he now thinks that I'm deliberately baiting him so he'll love me and I'll never love him."

Even Ron had the emotional range to cringe at that. "You two have the world's most fucked-up relationship — just letting you know. He thinks you're a dream half the time and the bad guy for the rest. So what did you say to that?"

"We argued. He said something about the Dursleys and how they treated me and I said the wrong thing about his mother." Harry fell to the side and curled up on the mattress. "What am I supposed to do now?"

"Convince him it was all just a bad dream?"

"I'm not going to tell him that our first time doing…things (he made a pathetic hand gesture that Ron really didn't need to see) was a bad dream."

"I do hope you're fine with it being your only time, then."

Harry groaned. "It's frustrating. Sometimes, we can be just us and it's perfect. Other times, it's like fucking a blast-ended skwert."

"That's what happens when you fall for your old arch-nemesis."

"I should have known better than to go to you for advice."

* * *

When Draco awoke, there was a pair of strong arms holding him against a firm chest that expanded with life. A steady heartbeat was thrumming under his ear and everything smelt of Harry. Knowing that it was him, Draco buried his head further into Harry's chest and snaked his arm around his body, ecstatic that their fight hadn't been real and was just a nightmare.

His mistake was that he never looked up at Harry's face. If he had done, he would have seen that the eyes that were watching him weren't green, but blood red, and he never realised that dangling off to the side of the bed was a tail lazily swinging with contentment.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, guys. As always, feeback is loved and appreciated (like a silencing charm).**


	15. Chapter Fifteen: To be Alone

**Timely Jinko is timely XD**

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**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine. **

**Status: Chapter fifteen of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: To be Alone**

* * *

It was awkward. Harry didn't know how to react to his last conversation with Draco. He hadn't listened to Ron's suggestion of telling Malfoy that it was all one of his nightmares and chose to instead ignore the blonde. Three days after the altercation, he hadn't worked up the courage to go through that locked door at the end of the hallway. A part of him (the majority of him, actually) felt horrible that he'd more or less abandoned Malfoy at his time of need but at the same time, he was still pissed that Malfoy thought he could do something so low. Harry guessed Malfoy had every right to believe this, given their history, but it still hurt.

Luckily for Harry, he had Ron and Hermione and the impending battle with Voldemort to keep his mind off Malfoy. There was training to be done and after his two best friends caught on to his depressed attitude, they pushed him harder to train than he'd ever thought they would. He was quickly thrown into a world of curses flying at him left, right and centre. There were simple curses he could heal with a thought and others that would send him straight to Madam Pomfrey's medical wing and he welcomed every colourful flash of it. When he was fighting for his life, he didn't have time to think about the suffering blonde stuck up in the Tower.

Unfortunately, by thinking about how he wasn't meant to be thinking about Malfoy, Harry was distracted and caught by an Expelliarmus. His wand went flying across the training room but he focused his magic and quickly returned the spell to Remus, successfully performing it wordlessly and without a wand. He then blocked the stinging hex that Kingsley shot at him — his attempt to deflect it back towards a defenceless Remus failed, falling short by nearly three metres. That was when Ron, who'd been ordered to randomly switch sides during the training battle, turned on Harry with a full-body-bind curse. This time, when Harry reflected it, it landed, freezing Ron just as Kingsley summoned Remus' wand his way, returning it to its rightful owner. Hermione was there to provide support for Remus, Ron and Kingsley so Harry took her out with a simple binding curse, hopefully sending the twosome out of the battle. However, he still had the two more experienced duellers to disable before they got the better of him.

Harry dodged the next blue flash Kingsley sent his way but in doing so, he more or less stepped into Remus' Stunner and was sent flying back into the padded wall behind him. A body-bind followed that as they effectively destroyed him in the battle.

Both Kingsley and Remus chose to enervate Hermione and Ron first and even gave them a hand to get up off the ground. The four of them made sure that everything was alright between them before finally heading over to Harry, who hadn't been able to move the entire time. And before they even considered letting Harry out of the bind, both Remus and Kingsley squatted around him.

"Where do you think you went wrong today?" Kingsley asked with a deep voice. From what Harry could see (his glasses were askew, so most of Kingsley's face was blurry to him), he was sweating a little, as if Harry had actually tested him somewhere along the lines. Funny; Harry couldn't remember when he would have worked up a sweat. Defeating Harry appeared to be quite an easy task.

Harry wanted to answer with a 'dunno', but even his lips were too frozen to move. So Remus spoke next. "It looked as if you lost your concentration after I cast the Expelliarmus on you."

Just thinking about Malfoy's making him lose his battles (be them physical, mental or emotional…). He had no doubt that the Slytherin would actually be quite proud about that.

"What were you thinking about? It had nothing to do with our training," Kingsley continued. "If you don't have an answer when I unbind you, I'll recast it and you can have another minute to think it over. _Enervate_."

Harry blinked for a moment and sat up, fixing his glasses along the way. "It's personal."

Remus gave him a knowing look before sighing."You can't let those thoughts get in the way, Harry. Defeating Voldemort is more important…"

"I know that. It's a fact that's been drilled into my head since I was twelve. But I'm not only the Chosen One, you know? I'm a teenage boy and sometimes teenage boys have girl-troubles and so mine's a little different to what most guys go through but it's still bothering me and it's not so easy to just push aside."

Kingsley wasn't impressed. "You don't think we all have a dozen different things on our mind? I'm not only training you but every other Auror who intends to fight against You-Know-Who. Lupin has a child on the way. You relationship with Miss Weasley isn't what you should be focusing on."

It seemed as if he was the only one who didn't know that Harry's issue wasn't with Ginny anymore.

"Well, I can promise you that I'll do my best not to think about her," Harry retorted smarmily. Of course, Remus, Ron and Hermione gave him unhappy looks, wordlessly reminding him that this man was the head Auror and that he was probably the last person he should piss off.

Kingsley apparently caught on. "I don't care about whichever girl you're having the issue with. There'll be no more of this nonsense. Lives depend on you being strong enough and you're not anywhere near close enough to go into battle. Thousands of people need you to fight for them…"

And so the lecture went on with everything Harry already knew and feared and he tried his hardest to listen to every word Kingsley spoke, but he found it didn't make him want to get stronger. It made him want to curl up in a corner for the next five years and hope everything (yes, he was referring to the war as 'everything') would blow over. He knew that it would never happen but the constant reminder of what he had to do wasn't as effective as everyone thought it was.

So with deep breaths, Harry fought the negativity in his own brain to push himself to try harder. He told himself everything that Kingsley was telling him and that he should have faith in Dumbledore's choices. The fate of their people depended on it. As for Malfoy, he knew that once they were safe, he and the blonde could pursue a relationship but until then, until the war was over, Harry's ability to fight had to take precedent, otherwise they wouldn't even be there to have a relationship.

"I get it," Harry finally muttered. With a strong hand, Remus pulled Harry up onto his feet. "Magic now, Malfoy later."

For the briefest of moments, Kingsley looked shocked but he covered it up and sent a ball of flames at Harry's feet. Jumping out of the way, Harry retaliated, opting to slash at Kingsley's wand arm with a burst of wind. It was wordless and wandless — he hadn't gotten his wand back after Remus disarmed him earlier —, with just a wave of his hand to direct the spell. It was blocked by a shield Ron quickly conjured, already placing himself on the older team. Hermione was the one to put out the fire while Remus sent out a hex to bind Harry's wand arm around his back. Long vines appeared and wrapped around Harry's right wrist and up around the back of his left shoulder.

Harry's reaction was to panic but then he forced himself to calm. He didn't need his wand, so he didn't need his wand arm. He could just as easily direct a hex with his left hand. It was nothing to him as to which hands he had at his disposal. Hell, Harry was sure he didn't even need to guide his attacks anymore.

Before he could remove the bindings, he was forced to jump out of the way again as Remus used the same attack on him, aiming this time for his legs. The tip of the vine whipped him a little, cutting both his pants and his skin like a paper-cut.

He knew then that this would be a very long day.

* * *

"You're getting much better," Hermione remarked, quickly healing a cut on Harry's cheek. Two hours had passed since their last break and Harry had accumulated a fair few scratches and bruises. This one, however, was so small that it wouldn't leave a scar. The last thing he needed was another facial scar. "I don't think you even need to use your wand anymore."

"It helps," Harry grumbled. He was still sore. The older wizards had also left him with a threat of stronger attacks for tomorrow and they were fresh on his mind. If he was so battered after something _weak_, how the hell was he going to feel after tomorrow's session? He had to admit that it was getting easier to hold his own against the adults as his training continued, but he wasn't sure he was getting any closer to being strong enough. Fighting in a training environment against two men who have no intention of harming him (let along killing him) was very different to fighting against someone whose very goal is to kill you. He could have these pretend battles until he could reducto all of Hogwarts in his sleep, but he doubted he'd have much of a chance against someone so strong with power and hatred.

Hermione finished healing him — if he was getting better at fighting, she was getting better at healing. He'd also noticed a vast improvement in Ron's defensive abilities. They were beginning to be a well-greased team where Harry was the fighter, Ron was the defender and Hermione was the healer. The only problem with it was that Harry didn't want to drag them any further into this war than he already had.

Though they probably wouldn't listen to him if he said anything about it. They couldn't abandon him anymore than he would abandon them.

"All better."

"You're amazing," Harry told her, reaching for her hand. "Really. I couldn't have asked for a better friend or sister."

A thick blush flushed her face and even Ron appeared a little startled by Harry's sudden confession.

"Are you feeling fine? Maybe you have a concussion I missed…" Her wand was lifted again as she searched his head for any damage. He waved it off.

"I'm fine. It's just that you're both putting yourselves in danger because of me…"

"Willingly," Ron commented. If anything, he seemed like Harry's admission had left the air between them a little awkward.

"But there's no need. You two are going head-first into a war you shouldn't have anything to do with. If you hadn't sat with me that first day, you'd be in class right now, not having to bother with stupid boys with concussions."

"It's not the concussion that bothers us. It's that you're constantly trying to get rid of us, even though we've told you over and over again that there's nowhere else we'd rather be," Hermione said was quite obviously only holding back from hitting Harry upside his head because of that potential concussion.

"Well, actually, I hear Fiji's awesome at this time of the year. I wouldn't mind being there right now. That would be great," Ron added. He received a towel in the face for his troubles.

"I'm learning so many things here with Shacklebolt and Remus and Tonks."

It was then that the very round Auror waddled into the room with a tub Harry guessed was the ointment for Remus' opened wounds. The werewolf had been on the receiving end of a slicing spell Harry had used and he felt a little bad that his mentor had been hit like that, but it was promising to know he could catch the older, more experienced wizard unaware. But as he watched Remus, the first thing he noticed was how pale he was. Harry was immediately worried that Remus was losing too much blood from the shoulder-injury, but what really had Harry's interest spiking was the way Remus instantly put up his mental defences. Harry had never seen the man guard himself so quickly before — not even in a battle — and it made him wonder what was happening.

So he watched as Remus helped Tonks to sit, gently lowering her to the ground without trying to aggravate his injury. She swivelled around him to have a look at the gash. Remus took off his shirt to give her a better look, at which she decided the salve was needed.

That was when the proverbial shit hit the fan. From what Harry could tell, Tonks' supply had been broken in to.

"Who's been going through my potions?" she roared with the force of pregnancy hormones burning behind her. Harry hoped whoever had been stupid enough to take a pregnant Auror's medication had three times the life of a cat. No one said anything but it was clear from the fiery glances they were receiving that Tonks felt one of them was the culprit.

Courageously, Remus leant over and took a whiff of the tub.

"Oh," he said and his eyes resolutely stayed on the ointment. "I must have accidentally used it. It smells a little like…"

"This isn't something you just 'accidentally use', Remus! This is worth more than you entire outfit did. We're saving for a house for our _baby_, Remus. You can't just use something so expensive like it's nothing."

She was awfully prone to these outbursts that threw their entire private-lives out into the open, like how Remus' sex drive was completely dead now that she was so large. So used to it was he that Remus shrugged his shoulders.

"It was a mistake. I have no doubts Horace would be able to make the same ointment for you for half the price if you just asked."

Even though he'd kept his tone neutral, it was still enough of a scalding that Tonks broke out into tears and forced herself into a standing position so she could stomp off as fast as her rounded body let her. It was Hermione who followed the emotionally-challenged Auror out while Remus sat still, still staring at the half-empty (yes, he was being pessimistic about it) tub. With a sigh, Harry got up and took Tonks' seat to apply the lotion onto Remus' cut.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Remus apologised with what had to be the heaviest sigh in the history of sighs. That had been happening far too often in Harry's opinion.

"I'm sure I can bring myself to forgive you if you can tell me what really happened to the ointment," Harry suggested. He scooped up a handful of the cold lotion and started to spread it over Remus' bleeding skin.

"I think Mister Malfoy's starting to rub off on you." They were speaking quietly, which lead Harry to believe this had something to do with the forbidden 'S' word.

However, the phrase Remus had chosen had Harry cringing. Rubbing off? Jesus.

"Maybe that's not the best thing to say." Even his voice gave him away that he was overly embarrassed about it.

Remus chuckled. "Oh. That would explain the distraction. You two are becoming much closer, then?"

"It's complicated."

Remus scoffed. "_That_ I can understand."

As Harry watched the cut heal, he thought about the different questions that had been plaguing him for these last few days.

"So I'm guessing this super-expensive potion was used on a certain ally we don't speak about?" Remus answered with a sharp nod of his head. "Ah. Now…this is perhaps going to be the _strangest_ question you've ever been asked, but a paranoid, delusional friend of mind let it slip that you're sleeping with said ally…" From the way Remus froze, Harry knew Malfoy had been speaking the truth. "Oh. Wow. Yeah, you'd get complicated alright. Umm, Malfoy was under the impression it was a nightmare."

"He didn't…he didn't _see_ anything…?" Remus was clearly petrified that the poor boy had been witnessed to his and Snape's coupling.

"No!" Harry caught himself. "No. Snape told him."

"That doesn't sound like him."

"Yeah, but Malfoy could get blood from a stone." He finished up and wiped his hands on his pants.

"I can't really explain it," Remus breathed. "It was just supposed to be a casual thing, but…"

When he trailed off, Harry caught on. "Oh! So you have…feelings for him?" Again, like he had thought so many times before, they crossed the line between manly and chick-flick and were yet again speaking about their feelings like school girls.

"Yes. I do."

"Strong enough to leave Tonks? I mean, you are cheating on your pregnant fiancée."

"I'm well aware of that, Harry." His tone was dry. Oh, he was absolutely aware that his 'relationship' with Snape meant that he was one of the lowest forms of human in the eyes of most people. "I plan on leaving her before the baby's born. I can't imagine it'll be greatly appreciated and I won't be able to tell her why until after the war's over but I'd choose Severus over her."

The news shocked Harry. Sure, he knew that Remus wasn't happy being with Tonks and that he hadn't intended on impregnating her but he never would have guessed that he'd leave her for Snape.

"And what about the baby?"

"I'd ask her for partial custody and see if Severus would like to raise him with me."

"Him?"

There was a tinge of pride when Remus continued. "Yes, him. We're having a baby boy. I thought you knew that already."

"In between which hex have you had the time to tell me?" Harry chuckled. "Though, are you sure that Snape's the best candidate to raise a kid with? Have you seen him teach before? He's not very kind to those smaller than him."

Remus laughed and threw his shirt back on now that the lotion had closed the wound and dried. "He's likely to kill me himself if I told him any of this. I'm not sure how he feels about me, so this is all supposing that we're sharing something other than bodily fluids."

"That's a little too much information for my liking."

"So then, what's so complicated about you and Mister Malfoy?"

"Well, we did things and now he thinks that because of those things we should be in love and that I should kiss him. I'm just not sure that the timing is right. I've got so many doubts that it can't be that I'm completely in love with him, even though I can see myself with him for the rest of my life, but teenagers always think that and…"

"If there are doubts, you could risk it not being true," Remus agreed. "You can't rush love. I'm guessing he wasn't happy with your decision, though."

"We had a fight and we both said the wrong things. It's complicated."

A weak smile graced Remus' face. "Gryffindors just can't get it right with Slytherins, can they?"

"If only."

* * *

Harry had to apologise to his dorm-mates for his treatment of them. Ever since his fight with Malfoy, he'd been testy and jumping down their throats angrily whenever they said anything slightly ambiguous and he knew that it was getting on their nerves and that they'd sooner push him off the Tower but he just couldn't stop it. The fight had left him confused in the training room, upset with his friends — even his appetite had taken a blow from the argument (Harry had leant over to Hermione at dinner and asked if girls were supposed to be more interested in sweets after a domestic. She pointed out that he was a male and perhaps males lost what they loved the most when they fought with a loved one: their hunger for food).

They all looked up when they heard the knocking on the door. It was late, so they hadn't expected any guests and most of the students stayed away from their room, anyway. The last thing the kids wanted to get messed up with was whatever it was Harry Potter was doing in secret. Yeah, they were interested and they wanted to be in the middle of it, but the threats given to them by their parents and the anti-social behaviour Harry was now infamous for had them staying away.

Dean was the one to get up and answer it, opening it just slightly and then letting out a groan when he saw who it was. He pulled the door back properly and invited their unwanted guest in.

"It's for you, Harry."

Malfoy quickly shuffled in, holding a plate of waffles in front of him. Winky followed him, holding cutlery to her chest. "The house-elf won't give me a knife without your supervision," Malfoy muttered, moving over to Harry's bed.

The concern on Harry's features was obvious to the other boys. They could see that he was truly worried about his former nemesis and he motioned for Malfoy to sit down next to him. His mood quickly changed. Malfoy wasn't looking so good so Harry's attitude turned 180 degrees from grumpy to caring.

"It's okay, Winky. I've got him," Harry said softly as Malfoy lowered himself onto the mattress. His back was to the boys. Winky handed over the knife and fork and Malfoy started to cut up his breakfast. Having done her job, she disappeared back to the kitchens. The boys looked at each other nervously when Harry's hand rose to card through Malfoy's hair. Malfoy didn't seem to mind it at all. In fact, it was almost as if he wasn't aware of it. "Are you alright?"

Malfoy paused and looked up at Harry. "You weren't there when I woke up." He was speaking so softly that Ron could hardly hear him from his bed. They were all listening in and watching how Harry and Malfoy interacted.

"I know."

"You're angry with me." The words were confused, as if Malfoy couldn't understand why Harry would be annoyed. "I-I don't remember why. I don't even know if I'm awake…"

Harry quickly looked at his roommates before shuffling closer to Malfoy. "You're awake. It's night." He then motioned towards the window where the curtain was still open. "The moon's up."

"I've seen that in my nightmares before," Malfoy pointed out. He eyed Harry. "Why are you angry with me? I'm having trouble separating the real you from the you in my nightmares."

Harry sighed, cupping Malfoy's cheeks. He couldn't begin to describe how much he cared for the blonde. "You said a few things that upset me. That's all."

Seamus scoffed and rolled his eyes. He knew that it was more than that. Malfoy's words had cut Harry, not just upset him. But he didn't say anything when Harry and Ron turned to glare at him.

"You should eat," Harry continued. "You haven't eaten in a while."

Malfoy shook his head, now looking down at the two waffles drenched in oozing syrup. "I think it might be poisoned…"

"Who'd want to poison you?" Harry's hand fell down to Malfoy's shoulder and travelled down his arm to land on his forearm.

"The monster."

"You're awake. He can't get you here."

This time, Malfoy shook all over. "You've said that before. You said that and then you changed and became the monster and you ate me. I can't-I can't trust it anymore."

"Okay, okay," Harry breathed, moving his hand to Malfoy's back and rubbing it comfortingly. "I'll have a bite first to show you that it isn't poisoned…"

"No!" Malfoy yelped, grabbing the plate and standing. He held it as far away from Harry as the stone wall would allow him.

"No? You don't want anyone to test it?" Harry stood slowly, but didn't try to approach Malfoy, who was breathing heavily. His eyes were tearing up, scaring Harry the most.

"They-they can." Malfoy cocked his head at the boys behind Harry.

"Why them? Why not me?"

"Even if it is just a nightmare, Harry, I don't want to see you die."

"Alright," Harry agreed and turned to his friends. "Ron? Would you like some waffles?"

It surprised Harry that Ron was by his side in an instant, ready to help out Malfoy. "Yeah, mate; I'd love some." Even though his voice showed that he was trying to be natural, the serious look on his face told Harry otherwise. He knew how important it was that Malfoy was alright.

Malfoy nodded his head and approached Ron, holding out the dish to him. Ron stabbed a small piece with the fork and ate it in front of Malfoy. Once the fork was back on the plate, Malfoy retracted his arm but continued to make sure it was away from Harry.

"See? It's not poisoned," Harry said and Malfoy shook his head.

"It might take a while for it to work," he objected and continued to stand away from Harry.

"Alright." Harry sat back down on the edge of his bed and patted the spot beside him. "How about you come sit and talk to me while we wait?"

Malfoy nodded his head and returned to the bed. The waffles were put to the side and he took a deep breath before looking at Harry. When he did, his eyes lit up a little. "You kept it?"

Confused, Harry cocked his head to the side. "Kept what?"

Malfoy reached out and wrapped his fingers around the key. "The last time I saw you, you got rid of it. You said that you didn't want anything to do with me anymore and you threw it away. The monster picked it up and used it to get to me and you let it."

Harry's hand grabbed Malfoy's and he held it to his chest. "I'd never let the monster get you, Malfoy. I'd kill him if I could." His thumb rubbed at Malfoy's palm tenderly and he felt the blonde relax.

The nightmares were taking a greater toll on Malfoy's mind and it was tearing at Harry. He knew that it was up to him to change it all, but he didn't want to risk it. And to see him now, struggling to find reality, just about broke Harry in two.

"What…" Harry had to stop to clear his throat. For the first time in his life, he understood what it meant to be choking on your emotions. "What was the last dream you had?"

"I don't remember," Malfoy muttered. "For all I know, this is the dream and the reality was that you threw the key away."

"I'm telling you now that I'd never throw it away, _Draco_. It's too important. _You're_ too important."

Ron coughed and turned to the other three. "Okay boys, I think we've spied enough," he said and turned only to pull the curtains around to give Harry and Malfoy their privacy.

Harry sent him a smile as thanks and Ron returned it only slightly and wrapped his arms around Malfoy's shoulders to bring him in nice and close. Malfoy accepted it and circled Harry waist in his own arms.

"I have to be sleeping," Malfoy mumbled into Harry's chest.

"Why?"

"The Weasel just did something nice. That can only be nightmare material."

Harry chuckled into Malfoy's hair, glad that Malfoy was calm enough to at least make a joke. But the second the moment was over, he pushed Malfoy up and off him. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"Just a few scratches." Malfoy pushed his sleeves up and showed Harry. "It's nothing too drastic."

"Good. You really should eat, though."

Grabbing for the plate, Malfoy nodded his head. The waffles were downed in an instant, showing Harry that he was right. Malfoy hadn't eaten after they'd fought.

"Are you up for a shower now?"

Again, Malfoy nodded his head and he summoned Winky to take the plate and then to bring him a fresh change of clothes. The house-elf did as she was told, overly happy to be serving someone again.

Meanwhile, Harry pulled back the curtain and glared straight away at Dean, who was smirking at him. "What?"

"Showering again?" Dean teased, sitting on the edge of his bed three beds away. "You boys should know that sometimes drains can be blocked by certain liquids…"

Harry, Ron and Neville blushed at that, but Harry threw a pillow at the other teen. "Git."

"Poof." If it weren't for the playful tone in Dean's voice, things other than pillows would have been thrown. Instead, Harry launched his second pillow and Ron joined in. Neville ducked to get out of the way but Seamus made sure that he wouldn't get far without getting a face-full of mattress.

No one saw the way Malfoy froze and crept up to the door, though. They didn't see him crouch down with his back to the wall next to it, shaking, as he heard something they couldn't hear.

It wasn't until Winky popped back into the room that they realised something was wrong.

"Master Harry!" Winky squeaked, getting all of their attention.

"Winky?" Harry asked, a little out of breath from the pillow fight that had broken out.

"Winky-Winky is very apologising for the mishap," she said, clearly upset for whatever mistake she'd made, "but Master Malfoy's knife wasn't with Master Malfoy's plate, sir…"

Harry's back instantly snapped straight and he searched the room for Malfoy. When he found him, he started to move towards him, but froze when he saw the butter knife held in Malfoy's hand. "Jesus, Draco," Harry breathed and everything fell silent.

Malfoy wasn't paying him any attention. He was too busy listening to whatever it was outside the room. Creeping a little closer to him, Harry got within three feet before he crouched to Malfoy's eye level. "Draco? What is it?"

"Can't you hear it?" Malfoy hissed out in a whisper. "His claws. I can hear his claws. He's coming…"

"The monster? I thought you understood that this is real."

Harry heard it too late. The clopping of the heels on the wooden planks was getting closer. "No, Draco! That's not…"

There was a knock on the door before it opened. Malfoy struck the moment he saw the movement and Harry pounced a second later. The others ran to the door after that, yelling as the screams started to fill the halls of Gryffindor Tower.

Harry wasn't certain how many times he saw that blunt knife plunge down into the body Malfoy was attacking, but he knew it happened more than once before he managed to drag him away. Malfoy was covered in blood and he was shaking and the knife had clattered to the floor, but that didn't matter to him.

"I got him — I killed him," he was saying over and over again. "I got the monster, Harry. I finally…"

Harry held Malfoy to his chest as he pulled them backwards away from the doorway. They were chest to chest and Malfoy was hugging him like he was celebrating, but Harry was capable of seeing what Malfoy had really done.

Ginny was lying halfway in the room and halfway in the hallway. There were so many small wounds dribbling out blood and Ron and Dean were working hard to apply pressure to the cuts, trying to stop the flow. Neville had already taken off to get Madam Pomfrey and Seamus was on his way to getting McGonagall. Students were beginning to fill the hall, woken by the screaming and the yelling.

Frozen still, Harry couldn't move. The boy in his arms was so happy that he'd finally gotten rid of the creature that haunted him every night but before him, he could see his ex-girlfriend bleeding all over the floor.

"Get him out of here!" Ron had snapped at Harry, but it didn't register with him one bit. He was too shocked with everything that had just happened.

Before Harry knew it, there were hands on him, pushing him back over to his bed and then he heard the sound of his curtains being drawn.

"Harry!" Hermione said sternly, finally gaining his attention. He was sitting on the bed with Malfoy straddling his lap.

"Hermione?" Harry asked, completely confused as to where she'd come from.

"What happened?" She was looking over Malfoy, making sure the blood on him wasn't his at all.

"I killed my monster," Malfoy answered for him, deliriously happy as he flopped back on the bed. Hermione raised her eyebrows at Malfoy's response, clearly confused. Harry reached out and twined his fingers with Malfoy's, not caring for the blood that was there.

"He took the knife from his breakfast," Harry said, "and he-he heard Ginny's heels on the floor. I-is she alive?"

"Madam Pomfrey's doing what she can now. Professor McGonagall's dealing with the students now, but I don't know what she's going to do to Malfoy, Harry."

Harry's hand gripped Malfoy's tighter. "He thought she was the monster. He thought her heels were its claws. He's always going on about the sound the claws make. It's not his fault. It's the potion."

Harry looked at Malfoy, who was still looking pleased with himself. His breathing was starting to even out as the adrenaline started to stop pumping through his system.

It was becoming apparent that people were starting to figure out what had happened. They knew that it was Malfoy who'd attacked someone and they were ready to get him out of there. From the word go, the students hadn't wanted Malfoy there. They hadn't wanted him there and their parents had wanted him within Gryffindor even less. When they started to raise their voices at Harry and Hermione for hiding him away, Harry's hand started to shake within Malfoy's.

"What is it, Harry?" Malfoy asked, rolling over and sitting up.

"Don't you hear them?"

Malfoy shrugged and sat closer to Harry. "It's a dream, so it doesn't matter what they're saying." His hand moved up and down Harry's arm and back. "Nothing matters. When I wake up, it'll all be back to normal."

"You're not dreaming, Draco," Harry argued, reaching for his hand again.

"It has to be. My monster doesn't exist when I'm awake."

"I promise you, you're not sleeping."

"But I killed it."

"You attacked…"

Harry's sentence was cut off by Minerva's arrival. Her mouth dropped a little before her lips tightened and formed a frown. "Mister Potter, we need to talk."

With a sigh, Harry nodded his head and let go of Malfoy's hand. Malfoy grabbed for him again, though, and when Harry looked down at him, he realised that he'd gone several shades paler. "What did I do?"

* * *

When Remus saw Snape, the first thing he realised was that the other man was feeling as old as he did. Snape looked ready for a massage that had been due last week and Remus didn't doubt that it was take all the strength of a troll to knead out the knots so that was the first thing they did. Remus eased Snape onto the bed and straddled his back to try to get out the knots that had formed from stress and was genuinely surprised when five minutes later, Snape was sleeping.

What woke him scared the life out of the both of them.

First, a cat Patronus slinked into the shack and Minerva's voice filled the room. Snape was awake and ready to flee within seconds but when he realised that it was her Patronus, he calmed. The message, however, had the two of them rearing to go again.

_Malfoy's attacked Ginevra Weasley. Critical condition. Doubt she'll pull through._

The moment it wisped away, Snape already had his shirt back on and they were heading towards the door.

"Keep me updated," he ordered, heading out towards Hogsmeade.

He didn't get very far. A second Patronus, a mousy dog, halted them.

_In labour. Baby's months early._

Remus doubled his attempts to leave, but he found a third force that prevented him from doing so. Snape had latched on to his arm and was dragging him back. A kiss was quickly pressed up against his lips.

"Keep me updated on that, too."

"Severus…"

"You were going to ask me, weren't you? I'll be his other parent after the war's over."

Blinking stupidly for a moment, Remus pressed his whole body against Severus and very nearly tried to drown the taller man with kisses and Snape responded to each and every one, telling Remus that he wanted to be a part of this family.

"Alright, go," Remus breathed when they finally parted. "I have a baby to…" He shook his head, completely unsure as to what the rest of that sentence was.

With a nod of his head, Snape turned away and headed in the other direction. Remus moved as fast as he could to get to where he was needed.

* * *

**Feedback? Motivation to get me finishing off chapter sixteen? It's slowly getting there… Oh jeepers…**


	16. Chapter Sixteen: To Fear

**Well, it's a little later than usual, but I've hardly had any time to work on it thanks to work in the real world. Jeepers, I'm hating the real world right about nows, but hey, that's life. **

**Pentu: Ginny-bashing, for me, is because I personally don't like the character of her. One of these days, I'll write her in as a good person, but right now, it's not on the books. As for Narcissa, she's the opposite. I adore her and I adore writing her, but I wanted to try something different for her. She's normally a brilliant mother in most of my other fics.**

**I'm so glad to see that everyone's on the edge of their seats, according to the reviews. Be still, enjoy, and prepare for a boring chapter…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter sixteen out of twenty. Omigosh, only four chapters left…**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: To Fear**

* * *

The events of the last few minutes were mind-blowing. Madam Pomfrey and Hermione were doing everything they could for Ginny while Minerva ordered Harry and Malfoy down to her office. The Weasleys were called in and they arrived by Floo not two seconds after the message received. An army of red-headed brothers and a sister-in-law stormed into the office, making Harry and Ron quite anxious. Malfoy was sitting curled up on an armchair, getting and more upset as the room filled. He must have realised by this point that none of this had been a dream and that he was to face real consequences because all the joy he'd had when he believed he'd slain his monster was gone.

Bill was the first to come through after his parents. While Molly and Arthur were quickly ushered to the medical wing, the brothers were to wait. Harry was the only one to protect Malfoy and they all know he'd need protection.

The first thing Bill did when he saw Malfoy was rush him. He ignored the grip his French bride had on his arm, shook her off, and stormed straight at Malfoy.

"You son of a bitch! You've hurt our family for the last time!" he roared, launching himself at the blonde. In that moment, Malfoy cowered, hiding behind the arm of the chair.

Harry stood in the way.

"Move," Bill ordered. "What the hell are you doing protecting him? He's done nothing but cause us pain!" Bill's face was disfigured by scars and his searing anger and he was pointing and waving like a lunatic.

Malfoy actually whimpered and curled into a tighter ball.

"I need you to calm down," Harry tried but that only further infuriated the larger man.

"_Calm down_? He's killed my baby sister!"

"She isn't dead. Madam Pomfrey's doing everything she can. You have to understand…Malfoy…he's not himself. He didn't mean to…"

Bill hexed him, or at least tried to, because Harry saw the moment he'd made up his mind and deflected, shattering one of the glass cabinets.

"I think you should really calm down, Bill," Harry suggested, letting his magic flare for just a moment longer with the hopes of intimidating Bill. He didn't want to have to hurt him but he'd choose to protect Draco if it came down to that.

It seemed to work. Bill stepped back and allowed Fleur to hold his hand. She was being used as a front as to why Bill didn't pursue the fight. "If he makes _one_ move, I swear, Harry…"

"I know."

A minute hadn't even passed since Harry calmed Bill down before the twins crashed through the Floo and headed straight for the Slytherin. They were yelling furiously things Harry couldn't understand, so twisting was their rage. He stepped up between them and Malfoy, like he'd done for Bill, and did his best to hold them back without his magic.

"Please," he pleaded, pushing on chests and shoulders. "He didn't mean to do it. He was confused…" His repeated lines incited Bill as well, so that there was a third body he had to keep away from Malfoy. Malfoy slipped up off the chair and headed off into a corner, hoping to have found a better spot to hide in. He moved so quickly that Harry didn't have a chance to see where he'd ducked off to and when he looked away from the yelling trio of redheads, one of them took advantage of the distraction.

A curse spat forth from one of the raised wands and was on its way to Malfoy's hiding hole, when a shield popped up and the weak hex crashed into it, dissipating easily.

The fact that the shield had come from Ron was enough to shock his brothers into stopping their attack on Malfoy.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bill demanded, glaring at his youngest brother.

"I think I'm protecting someone who's lost his mind and doesn't know the difference between reality and a nightmare," Ron snapped in return. "Malfoy's gone crazy, guys. He thought he was killing a monster — a monster that's been stalking him in his dreams because of a potion he was forced to take from You-Know-Who. He's only just realising that this is all real."

"He's lost track of what's real and what's not," Harry added, looking back where he could see where Malfoy's toes were poking out from behind a wall unit. "He's normally not even allowed to have a knife to cut his food up with. We realised too late that he still had the knife with him."

"He's crazy?" Fred asked, lowering his wand. George did the same.

"It's like he was tortured like Neville's parents were. The pain drove them mad. Malfoy has the constant fear of his monster, which can kill him again and again in his dreams. A few months ago, it drowned him at least ten times and he felt every moment of it. The nightmares are as real to him as reality is to us."

"He has his moments," Ron admitted, "where it's like he's the Malfoy we all remember but he was terrified that his breakfast was poisoned when he woke up earlier. He thought his monster had gotten a hold of it and was trying to poison him."

"When he heard Ginny's heels, he thought they were the claws of the monster. He got scared and thought he'd be able to fight back this time. We were just too late to stop him." And with that, when Harry was sure that the Weasleys wouldn't try hurting Malfoy again (and that Ron could stop them if they tried), Harry turned and joined Malfoy along the side of the cabinet. "Are you okay?"

The blonde was shaking his head. "I didn't mean to," he muttered. There were tears down his face. "I never wanted to kill anyone. I've never wanted to kill."

"I know," Harry shushed, reaching out to run his hand through Malfoy's hair.

"I thought it was the monster. I haven't killed her, have I?"

"Madam Pomfrey and Hermione are working hard to make sure Ginny's alright, okay?"

Malfoy sniffled and Harry pulled his intended partner close to him. He tucked Malfoy's head under his chin and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You're still in your pyjamas."

"There's blood all over them."

That was true. Dark stains were drying on the soft white flannelettes, some still red while others were brown. There were drops from where the blood splashed through to full hand-prints from where Malfoy had rubbed his hands in an effort to remove the drying, sticky liquid from his palms and from in between his fingers.

"I can clean it up later, alright?"

"I want it gone." Malfoy started to shake all over as he started to scrub at the dried blood on his hands with the rough pads of his thumbs. "It-it's all over me and I want it gone."

"Not yet," Harry argued, reaching for Malfoy's hands. He held them close to his own chest, entwining their fingers and still not caring for the blood. "We might need it as evidence. As soon as we get permission, though, I'll get rid of every last drop. I promise."

Malfoy was nodding his head then and buried his face in Harry's neck. "I thought it was my monster," he repeated pitifully.

Harry held him like that, listening to him ramble, as his own tears formed in his eyes. One glance from Ron told Harry everything he needed to know about where he stood. They both knew that if Harry had kissed Malfoy when he'd asked, none of this would have happened.

"I'm so sorry I've let you down," Harry breathed into Malfoy's hair.

The blonde shook his head as he rocked back and forth. "No. I'm the one who can't be loved."

And that hurt more than Harry could have ever expected.

They remained like that until Minerva returned with the very pale parents. Arthur had to restrain Molly from rushing forward and knocking the life out of Malfoy, who cringed up along Harry's side when the yelling started up again. It wasn't until Harry performed a silencing charm on everyone but Ron and Minerva that the yelling stopped and people remembered what it was like to be civilised.

"I'm sorry to have to do that," he apologised, "but no one was listening."

So Minerva offered everyone in the Weasley family a seat, and even suggested that Malfoy get into his own, but Malfoy objected so he could stay by Harry's side. When everyone was seated, Minerva offered her deepest apologies for what had happened and explained to the band of brothers that their sister would make it just fine. The majority of the wounds were superficial and that the actions Ron and Dean had taken had saved her. She'd barely have any physical scars to remind her of the terrible misunderstanding.

Harry felt so much gratitude for Minerva for wording it the way that she did. She couldn't have stressed how much of an accident that this really was. Despite not being completely up to date with all the information, she still managed to pass Malfoy off as a victim as well and Harry could only hope that this would help Malfoy's case.

It wasn't until Charlie arrived that Minerva decided to let Harry tell the whole story. The moment he stepped through, Harry realised that he didn't have to protect Malfoy at all. Charlie was being calm about the situation, especially once Minerva explained that Ginny was going to be alright. He pulled up a seat and Minerva got to describing the potion and what it had done to Malfoy.

After Minerva had finished telling them about the effects and how Malfoy was likely to join the high percentage of victims who killed themselves after not being able to fall in love and receive true love's first kiss, Shacklebolt arrived with his own apologies. He'd been held up and couldn't tell the people he was with that he needed to deal with a stabbing at Hogwarts involving the Malfoy heir. He also announced that Scrimgeour was also on his way.

Every drop of hope Harry had died away at the thought of the Minister being brought into the situation. His arms tightened around Malfoy's shoulders and he held him closer.

"I'm so sorry," he breathed when Malfoy's eyes turned up at him. Malfoy had been included in the silencing charm, so he didn't have the voice to question Harry's sudden possessiveness.

"Harry, if you could please let Arthur out from under the spell," Minerva said, not needing to finish her sentence. Without using his wand, Harry did just that (he made sure he verbally redacted it, though, so Arthur knew when he could speak).

"So we're to believe he's not sane?" was the first question Arthur asked.

"I've told you this," Ron grumbled.

"He's being tortured as he sleeps," Minerva clarified. "The potion works so that he dreams his nightmares during the day and lives confused during the night."

"And he thought Ginny was this creature his dreams have conjured…?"

"It was the noise," Harry explained. "He's been twitchy for a while now. But I'm going to take full responsibility for this. That was the deal. Malfoy was to be my charge if he stayed here."

The Weasleys chorused out their objections but their voices weren't heard. They weren't the only ones.

Malfoy motioned to Harry to let him out of the silencing spell, so Harry removed it from everyone under it. "You can't do that," Malfoy muttered into Harry's shoulder. "I'm the one who…who hurt her."

"I told Shacklebolt right from the beginning that I'd be responsible for everything you did. That was part of the deal. You got yourself in trouble and I'm taking the blame for it."

"But…"

"Harry's right," Ron said suddenly. He gave Harry a look that Harry understood immediately. If Harry had kissed him sooner, none of this would have happened. Malfoy's sanity might have still been intact and the horrible mess could have been avoided.

Ron's family, however, weren't happy with where he sided. "You can't be serious," Bill argued instantly. "You can't blame Harry for this."

"We have our reasons, Bill."

"I agree with Ron," Harry stated. "If I had taken better care of Malfoy, this wouldn't have happened."

"Harry, dear," Molly tried, letting him know that she'd ever blame him for any damage caused to her children, even though one was following him into a bloody war. "It was Malfoy who stabbed her. You had nothing to do with this."

"It was part of the conditions of Mister Malfoy staying here," said Minerva.

"I'll implement a permanent guard outside Malfoy's room," Kingsley decided. "That way, we can keep an eye on him at all times. He'll be kept away from anything that could possibly be a weapon."

Malfoy was nodding his head into the crook of Harry's neck. "That would be best."

"You won't send him to Azkaban?" Molly asked with obvious distress. "He's hurt two of my children now and Merlin knows what he's doing to Ron and Harry's minds. It should be the Kiss for him."

"Ironic," Harry muttered. "And I can't imagine having his soul sucked out would be any more of a punishment than this. A soulless person can't dream, right?"

"It's tempting," Malfoy mumbled.

"Oi."

"Not being able to dream would be very nice."

"I don't want to hear about that."

Molly wasn't impressed. "You don't want him to be punished for what he's done?"

"I don't think he can be held responsible. He's lucid at the moment, but we have no idea when that'll change. Please," Harry pleaded, "you can't blame him."

It was the moment that Harry had been worried about since he realised his feelings for Malfoy. He was terrified that the Weasleys would lose love for him the moment they discovered he was crushing on the boy who'd hurt their son, and as he looked at them, he realised that perhaps they wouldn't approve. That scene where Draco was sitting amongst the Weasleys for dinner flashed in his mind and—

And he felt cold humour run through his veins. Voldemort had seen it and he knew that there was something happening between Harry and Malfoy. He knew, and that made Harry's insides crawl to know that it marked Malfoy as another target in the war. This was why he originally left Ginny and now it was happening to the poor man whose whole life was quickly becoming a nightmare.

Harry had to shake his head to quieten the high laughter that chilled him to the bone.

His eyes focused instead on the married couple he considered his surrogate parents to see that Arthur was confused while Molly…Molly looked like she'd been betrayed.

"You'd accept punishment, Harry?" Minerva asked. When Harry nodded his head, despite Malfoy's own objections, she continued. "And you'd accept punishment, Mister Malfoy?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll have your key, Harry."

Malfoy was gobsmacked. "What? N-no! You can't take his key…" Tears were welling in his eyes already. "If he hasn't got his key, he can't see me. And I need him to see me because he doesn't love me. How can he love me if he never sees me?" He was starting to panic, shaking all over, despite Harry's arms tightening around him in an attempt to calm him down.

"This is our punishment, Malfoy. You don't get to choose it," Harry pointed out softly, making sure that the blonde heard that it was a penalty for the both of them. They shuffled a little as Harry pulled the chain from around his neck and levitated it into Minerva's waiting hand. He then turned his head to look at the Weasleys. "I know you'll want to put him into prison but he doesn't belong there. Voldemort tortured him physically and now this potion is torturing him mentally. The nightmares, the _deaths_, are as real to him as reality is to us. And he'll be locked up with the Auror guarding him."

"I agree with this proposal," said Minerva, eyeing the Weasleys.

"Me too," Charlie announced. "Malfoy's clearly devastated and that's good enough for me."

"Can I request that it's Wallace Graves who acts as Malfoy's guard?" Harry asked Shacklebolt, hoping beyond all hope that Kingsley would agree to this.

The negative answer crushed his lungs. "Auror Graves has more important tasks to perform. He's helping train our army. I'll hand-pick the best Auror for the job."

Harry could only nod his head.

"She's awake," Poppy declared, coming into the room. "And she's requesting Mister Potter's presence."

Bill's face suddenly reddened. "What about her _family_?"

His rage didn't faze her at all. "It's a little close to the full moon, isn't it? I've got some Wolfsbane stored if that will make you feel any less stroppy."

He clearly didn't appreciate that comment. "That murderous bastard attacked my sister and you're giving _me_ lip?"

"Mister Weasley, I will have you know that I just spent the last half-hour slaving over her wounds. If it weren't for Hermione and me, she'd be dead. I expect that you'd understand why I feel the right to speak to you however I deign to, alright?" The oldest Weasley brother sunk back a little. "And while we're having this conversation, I'd like you to know that when Mister Malfoy was found, it took me hours to stop the bleeding from the numerous incisions made to his body from the torture he endured from You-Know-Who. He had cuts that were poisoned that prevented me from magically healing them. Your sister was lucky. Given the injuries I've seen these past few months, she was very lucky." Satisfied that the young man was put back into his place, she paced over to where Harry and Malfoy were crouched on the floor but Malfoy was already shaking at the sound of her approaching footsteps.

"Hey," Harry tried soothing him. "It's alright. It's just Madam Pomfrey. She's not going to hurt you."

"It sounds like my monster."

"I know but not everything that sounds like your monster is it. Besides, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm not letting the Weasleys near you and I'm not letting the monster near you, either. You can trust her."

"I just want to check your wounds and see how you've been healing."

When she reached out, Malfoy's reaction was to slap her hand away and bury his head in Harry's shoulder.

"I don't want it touching me."

A heavy sigh tore through Madam Pomfrey's body. "And to think I could have been delivering a premature baby right now. I just defended you, Mister Malfoy, and the violent attack that has a young girl wrapped up in bandages, relying on blood-replenishing potions to keep her alive. It would be greatly appreciated if everyone in this room would stop treating me like the enemy."

"Show her your chest," Harry prompted.

"That's private."

"I've seen it before," she pointed out.

Grey eyes flickered towards the fuming family.

"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey can check without showing everyone."

"It must be nice to be able to hide your scars," Bill scoffed.

"Lay off him," Ron hissed. "You're all seeing how crazy he is. It doesn't get much worse. You can at least think straight." He seemed to reconsider that statement. "Well, you should be capable of thinking right, but you're clearly failing at it. Malfoy's fate is easily worse than death — he even asked for the Dementor's Kiss — and you're still acting like you're the only one hurt."

Bill opened his mouth to argue when the already packed office opened for three new guests.

Scrimgeour and two Aurors strolled through the doors and with one barked order, the two younger enforcers swooped on the terrified blonde.

They didn't get close. A burst from Harry halted them, trapping them metres away.

"What are you doing?" Scrimgeour demanded, bearing down at the pair. "He nearly killed young Miss Weasley, someone you're known to have feelings for. This was, without a doubt, an obvious attack on you, ordered by You-Know-Who himself!"

"You can't be serious," Harry groaned.

Madam Pomfrey ignored the threat of the looming, frozen Aurors and lowered Malfoy's shirt collar to have a look at the thin lines there.

"They're healing fine," she announced before Scrimgeour continued with his paranoid plot.

"It's the perfect ploy. You'd never turn away a torture victim…"

"And with all the time that he's spent with me, alone, he figured it would be better to a Ginny in front of five armed friends? It makes no sense. He's crazy but he isn't stupid," Harry scoffed. "Besides, we had a deal. If you're sending those Aurors after anyone, it's me. Now, Professor McGonagall, Auror Shacklebolt and I have come up with a punishment for us. Professor McGonagall is in possession of the key that gave me access to Malfoy's room, limiting the time we have together. It's the last thing Malfoy wants and I…" Harry glanced down at the Slytherin. "It'll hurt me, too. And Shacklebolt will choose a Auror to be there with Malfoy at all times to make sure that nothing like this will ever happen again."

The Minister of Magic didn't look convinced in the slightest. It was clear that he still thought that Malfoy was the enemy in the situation.

"I believe this is a suitable reprimand," Minerva said and Shacklebolt was quick to agree. "The extra Auror will ensure the safety of the students and being here at Hogwarts is the safest option for Mister Malfoy. And even if you decided that Mister Malfoy was better off elsewhere, I'd like to see you try to physically remove him from Mister Potter's view."

They all looked at the helpless Aurors that hadn't moved a millimetre since Harry stopped them with his magic minutes before. Minerva had a point. If he wanted to, he'd be able to stop them from getting to Malfoy. His training with Kingsley and Remus had taught him how to take on Aurors and beat them.

Scrimgeour wasn't impressed at all. Yet again, Harry was making deals he shouldn't have and he was using his influence and his strength to get what he wanted. He turned to Minerva. "What of the students? Do we have any witnesses?"

It was Ron who answered. "The screaming…it grabbed the attention of quite a few people." The shiver didn't have to be seen—Harry could even hear it on his voice. The sound of the attack had been chilling.

"Filius is with them now. He's doing what he can to keep this contained."

Without missing a beat, Scrimgeour got on top of the public relations nightmare that this was. "We have to reveal all the details to the students," he claimed. "We'll release a press release with a full background story on this potion and the effects. I want a professional on the potion to support Malfoy's innocence and I want a therapist to sit with him and evaluate him. The release will be about the Never After and how it caused the attack."

Malfoy spoke up. "You're going to tell everyone I'm insane?"

"If it helps," Harry said immediately. He could tell Malfoy didn't want this to happen. "I know it's not exactly what you want everyone to know…"

"My mother…if she found out, she'd be devastated."

That had Harry cringing. Narcissa Malfoy hadn't shown any sign of caring for Draco and yet his number one concern was for his mother.

"Do you know where your mother is?" Scrimgeour asked.

"How could he possibly know?" Harry replied, feeling defensive. "He's been up in that tower for months now, without a chance to get in contact with the outside world. Besides, the important part right now is that I'm agreeing to your plan to tell the papers that Malfoy's here. I'm supporting it, even, and that was part of our arrangement."

Nodding his head, Scrimgeour accepted that. "I'm supposing you've told your roommates about Malfoy living down the hall from them?"

"Yes."

"We'll have them interviewed, as well. They'll have nothing bad to say about his time here?"

The moment in the bathrooms flashed in Harry's mind. "They've been supportive of him."

"If we can handle the publicity on this, he'll stay as long as he'll have to. However, this is the last time I allow you to do this," he growled, pointing a finger at Harry. "If it got out to the public that you were protecting a Malfoy over a Weasley, there'd be pandemonium."

"It's not going to get out to the public because I'm not choosing one over the other. The Weasleys are my family and Malfoy's my friend. I just don't believe Malfoy should be held responsible for this and I'd like to think that the Weasleys can see why."

Arthur nodded his head. "He's hurting."

"He's crazy," Ron grumbled but he was looking at the twins to say something.

"Then I guess we have no choice but to blame Harry," George suggested.

"What did we say we'd do to him if our baby sister got hurt?"

And so they rattled off a long list of playful torture devices, letting Harry know that they were on his side.

Only Bill and Molly seemed unimpressed.

"He won't even go to trial?" Molly asked.

"He wouldn't be found guilty," Poppy told her. "It is as the boys have been saying. Mentally, he's not alright. Even if he got the kiss he needs, he'd require counselling, if not a permanent house-elf to watch him. It wasn't the spell that's making him crazy — it's his nightmares and they're likely to stay with him without the potion in his system, as I'm sure Mister Potter can testify to. The source may go, but the dreams will remain."

Harry's arms tightened around Malfoy. Merlin, he'd never thought of it that way. And he could see Ron stiffen, too. They'd all imagined that if Harry was to break the curse, it would heal him completely. That wasn't the case. This was something he'd have to live with.

"Now, Mister Potter, I don't feel comfortable leaving Miss Weasley alone for such a long time. Perhaps now would be the best time for Auror Shacklebolt to take Mister Malfoy back to the Tower for the remainder of the day while we visit my patient."

Harry's eyes focused on Scrimgeour. "You're agreeing to these terms?"

"I've no choice," he growled. "Release my Aurors and we'll be out of your hair. However, if he falls out of line one more time…"

The threat was left looming. You didn't have to having the highest NEWTs to know what would happen to Malfoy if anything like this happened again.

"We understand," said Harry and shuffled so he could get up. "Come on."

* * *

It was blue. Never before had she seen such a disgusting hue, let alone on something that had just come out of her.

"It's supposed to be red," she heard herself say, though she wasn't sure why. Remus was right there, by her side, holding her hand, looking at the grotesquely coloured _thing_ the doctors were now fussing over.

"He'll be okay," Remus was telling her but she wasn't sure why. That blue thing wasn't the little baby boy they were expecting. Babies weren't that colour. They were red and pink and crying. This lump was blue and purple and absolutely silent. It was everything a baby wasn't.

A mediwitch came over and started to speak to her, but Tonks didn't take any of it in. She was waiting for her real baby to be born. Remus' hand was tightening on hers, trying to get a reaction out of her, but she didn't respond. She was waiting for the next contractions, but Remus and the doctor were the only ones near her. Not two minutes ago, she had an army fussing over her, telling her what they could see and that she needed to push harder. Why were they so focused on that _thing_ when they still had to deliver her beautiful boy?

It started to cry. The thing that came out of her was crying, imitating her perfect baby.

"He's alright," Remus breathed but Tonks shook her head.

"No. That's not…"

"His umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck. He wasn't breathing. They've got him now, though. You can hear him."

And then a doctor was there with a splotchy purple creature that was reddening with every thundering cry.

Tonks knew — she knew that there were creatures that could change their appearance at will. She was one of them. It was the same and it was imitating what a real baby should have looked like.

And it was right there, right in her face, as the doctor tried to push _it_ into her arms.

"Get it away from me," she hissed, showing back. "I don't want that thing near me. It's not my child."

Looks of concern blossomed all over Remus and the doctor's face.

"Nymphadora; this is the baby you just gave birth to…"

"Babies are red. This thing was blue."

"The cord was around his neck," Remus repeated but she wasn't listening. Somehow, it had managed to trick them into believing it was the real baby when the actual baby had yet to come.

"Where's my real baby? It's still inside me."

She saw the mediwitch give Remus a look before she fell unconscious, soothed with a word and a wave of a wand.

* * *

Exiting McGonagall's office turned out to be a lot more difficult than Harry expected. He and the Weasleys went one way and Malfoy went the other, lead by Shacklebolt and Scrimgeour.

Feeling the heated eyes on the back of his head, Harry made sure he was more than a few metres ahead of the Weasleys, walking alongside Poppy. He knew that after protecting the man who'd attacked their daughter, Molly and Arthur wouldn't be too happy with him.

"How's Hermione?" Harry asked Poppy as they walked. "It must have been terrible for her to patch up one of her best friends."

"She's keeping herself busy. After Miss Weasley, she went to Saint Mungo's to be there for Tonks."

"What's happened?"

"The baby decided to be a few months early. Lupin is there with them. From what I last heard, everything was going fine. They expect the baby will have to stay at the hospital for a few weeks but it should be healthy. It was developing quite well according to the latest scans."

"Are they keeping you updated?"

"Of course." They turned a corner and headed into the medical wing. For the first time in Harry's memory, the doors were closed, hiding the damage Draco caused. His surprise was furthered when he saw Poppy take a key from her pockets to unlock the doors. Keeping this out of the public eye was clearly one of the highest priorities. He could only hope that the PR work Scrimgeour was sure to bring in worked.

But all thoughts were forced from his mind when his eyes landed on Ginny's prone form.

She was pale, exceedingly so. Her freckles were brighter because of the whiteness of her skin, but her lips were shade lighter than he was used to seeing. There was an IV inserted into her left inner elbow. It was strangely Muggle, but when Harry looked at the liquid, he realised it wasn't blood. Blood wasn't purple. It must have been the blood-replenishing potion. There were clear stains on the bandages, though, and there were several of those ominous bandages. The blankets were tucked up to her waist and her arms were resting by her side, on top of them, bound with white strips splotched red. That at least filled his lungs with air; she'd fought back. Even though the attack had come from nowhere — unwarranted and without warning — she'd still managed to raise her arms and protect her chest and head. _That_ was reminiscent of the young woman he loved, rather than the overly attached, almost desperate girl of the past year.

"Seventeen stab wounds," Poppy said over his shoulder. "He managed to get four into her abdomen, two in her chest, one on her right hip — he sliced right through the bone. It would have taken a lot of strength on his behalf — seven on her arms once she started to protect herself and three to her thighs. The majority of the wounds are on the right side of her body — she curled up defensively when she couldn't fight back any longer."

"Jesus," Harry breathed. The attack hadn't felt like it had lasted long enough for her to be stabbed seventeen times. It was just too fast.

"You know it's bad when you bring out the Muggle curses," Ginny said suddenly, weakly.

Her eyes were closed and her voice showed the pain she was in.

"Hey," Harry breathed, reaching out for her hand. His fingers closed over the bandages gently so not to hurt her. "You're looking alright for a mummy. They're usually ugly and creepy and falling apart."

"They're also occasionally walking."

His eyes just about jumped out of his head. "Really? I thought that was just Muggle fun…"

"Haven't you learnt that much of these rumours and stories have some truth? I thought your boyfriend's condition was proof enough."

"He's not my boyfriend," Harry muttered, almost defiantly.

"Madam Pomfrey explained to me. Malfoy attacked me. She wouldn't say why, though. Why'd he attack me?"

With a deep, calming breath, Harry ventured into that troublesome territory and explained to her about the situation and how the monster has ruined Malfoy's sanity. Towards the end, she wasn't looking entirely convinced.

"Have you considered it's a rouse? You've given a Death Eater immunity…"

"Scrimgeour suggested the exact same thing."

"He could be a spy."

"He's not loyal enough to stick with someone who's _tortured_ him. Why can no one see that?" Harry took a few steps back away from the bed and scrubbed at his hair to try to alleviate the stress.

You can never be too sure that the potion is real."

"He's not acting."

"But how can you know? He _is_ a sneaky git and you two have a lot of bad blood between you. You-Know-Who could have set this all up, Harry, _knowing_ that you'd have to help him out. He knows that you're kind and forgiving but sometimes it's just too much for your own good. You have Pettigrew that second chance and it bit you in your arse, remember?"

"Don't…"

"You're giving Malfoy that chance now because everything has fallen in place. You-Know-Who handed over a damaged boy, whose life has been destroyed by everything that's happened. He can't be with his parents anymore. His home might as well be destroyed…"

Harry started to pace, not even realising that Poppy had disappeared to give them their privacy. When this had come from Scrimgeour, it was easy to overlook. He knew all about paranoid Ministers trying to twist everything the way they wanted it. Coming from Ginny, though, was different.

"He's been here for _months_, Gin. Why would he go after you when he's had ample time to get me? I've slept in his bed before, _beside_ him and he's never once tried anything."

A shadow crossed her features as he said this. Hearing that he and Malfoy had been close hurt. "It doesn't take a genius to see where your strength comes from. You're fighting to protect your family and friends. If he got rid of us first, you'd be an easy target. You-Know-Who couldn't have planted a better spy."

"I saw how he was treated in those dungeons. He was cutting him to shreds daily."

"Your visions have been wrong before," Ginny pointed out. "They could have been given to you, purposely."

"His scars are real."

"Madam Pomfrey had trouble healing them, didn't she?"

Harry's feet paused for just a moment and he saw the flash that told him she'd seen it. "I chose him," he said, finally. "Over you, I mean. I chose _him_."

"I know."

"You're determined to get me back…"

"This isn't about that, Harry. I'm genuinely worried about you and your relationship with him. Not because I still have feelings for you — I do, don't be mistaken — but this is about your safety. And if you won't accept that there's a danger to yourself, you can bloody well see that there's a danger towards Ron and Hermione and anyone else you are or have been close to." To emphasise her point, she raised her arms a little, as high as she could, actually. Losing strength, she lowered them again. "You have to wake up."

"You can't fake being that scared, Ginny. He's going out of his _mind_ with fear for this monster he keeps seeing. He's not a murderer. I've seen it myself. He couldn't kill Dumbledore, even though he had him disarmed and begging. He couldn't do it. Malfoy isn't a killer. He isn't a spy for Voldemort."

"I hope you're happy with us being killed, then. I can accept you choosing him over me, but I can't see you choosing him over everyone in your family."

Harry turned abruptly on his heel and left the Medical Wing without another word.

* * *

The door handle rattled twice, not quite turning round fully to check if was properly locked. That last clank was what Draco thought would be his last point of human contact for months. With a dejected sigh, he sat down on the bed, slumped over and rested his head in his hands. And then he realised the blood.

In hysteria, he stripped. His button-down was torn off, his pants were kicked away and his hands…finger curled and he scratched at his palms, trying to scrub the blood off.

Winky appeared soon afterwards and found him by the door, sitting with his bare legs pulled up to his chest.

"Master Draco," she squeaked and rushed over to be by his side. She quickly washed the blood away and checked to make sure none of it was his. She found a long scratch along his arm — a scratch caused by long nails trying to stop him from killing. That was quickly healed and his clothes were properly removed. The two buttons that had ripped off were summoned back and sewn back on with a thought. She helped him up with tender hands, trying to steady him.

"I didn't mean to," he muttered when she pulled clean pyjamas out of nowhere. She steadied him as she helped him into fresh clothes before steering him towards the bed. Winky tucked him in, telling him gently that it wasn't his fault and that everything would be fine. He felt her pull the blankets up around his neck and turned onto his side.

"Winky has a sleeping draught for Master Draco…"

"I don't want any damn potions." As he snapped this, he turned just slightly and spotted something. It was a red pouch with a note attached to the neck of it, lying on the floor, just under the desk. The blankets were thrown off him and he launched himself at it, startling Winky into crying out. When his hands clasped around the satchel, he was reminded of the nightmare and how Harry had searched so hard for this damn thing.

After everything that had happened that night, and now having found the pouch, Draco was struck with the greatest confusion he'd ever faced. Which part had been real and which part had been a dream? He felt sick to his stomach at the thought. The dreams and reality were blending. Maybe Harry had been right when he said he'd met Auror Graves that night, but where did the real world finish and the nightmare begin? He'd met Graves before his run—he'd escorted him to the Lake, but their conversation didn't happen until after his confrontation with Snape. So did that mean everything Snape said was real? Dear Merlin, he was sleeping with…? Queasy again, Draco stood and paced, focused entirely on the pouch.

After speaking with Severus, he returned to Graves and hid this package skilfully. They talked at the Lake as he was cooling down; Graves gave him his card. They walked back up to the Tower and checked in on Harry and that had been when the attack happened. That was when his monster had appeared out of nowhere and had bitten him. That was definitely part of the dream. The monster wasn't real but this package and that card from Graves were. And Harry's need for the pouch was real, so he rushed over to the door, turned the handle and stuck his head out. Already, Shacklebolt was gone and the permanent guard was in place.

The guard, a young man who might have only just entered his twenties, was tall and broad, built like a swimmer. He had dark, smooth-looking skin and honey brown eyes that hardened the moment they landed on Draco.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled. "Don't show your face again tonight." And with a single push, he slammed the door shut.

"I have something important to give to Potter," Draco shouted through the door, pushing back at it, but it seemed as if the larger man was putting his weight on the door, preventing him from opening it.

"I _will_ hex you."

"He needs it!"

The door tore open, throwing Draco off balance. In the next moment, he was struck with a curse that had him reeling. For a moment, he was confused as to where he was and then the pain hit. He rolled over — when had he fallen? — and threw up; the pain was just too great. It disappeared after a second, but Winky stopped him from trying again.

The pouch was forgotten about for the night in a night full of terrible occurrences.

* * *

**So…I haven't even started on chapter seventeen. This is a bad start… I'll do what I can to get it up as soon as humanly possible. Oh jeepers…**


	17. Chapter Seventeen: To Hide

**Gwaaaaa… Sorry this has taken so long. Busy weekends are busy! It's not a great chapter, but with it, we'll potentially hit the 500 review mark! **

**.angel: I can't even begin to explain how hard your review was to read and understand. It kinda made me feel really old and actually terrified for the future of the English language…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter seventeen of twenty.**

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: To Hide**

* * *

When the Minister of Magic decides to put out a media release, he pulled all the stops. The newspapers were filled with packs detailing the Never After potion, insanity caused by torture, background on the Malfoy family and interviews from the other boys in the dorm. The front cover of the Daily Prophet was covered with a new story regarding the safety and Malfoy's condition. If anyone doubted Malfoy's innocence in Dumbledore's murder, the Prophet was quick to erase those opinions. Story after story about Malfoy's life was printed, until it was clear he was groomed to be the perfect Death Eater.

So the world knew that he was insane. They knew that he was a Death Eater without it being his choice. They knew he was brainwashed since birth and that since entering Hogwarts for his seventh year, he'd seen the light. Harry was praised for turning the leader of the second generation of Death Eaters to the light side and Malfoy quickly became the image of freedom. If he could shake the hold Voldemort had on his family's life, anyone could.

The interviews given by Neville, Seamus and Dean painted the portrait of the tortured soul that Scrimgeour wanted to portray. Malfoy was kind when he knew what was happening and scary when he wasn't so lucid. They explained that Malfoy and Harry were close — that Harry had given him a second chance and that they all knew that Malfoy had changed. A detailed account likening Malfoy's condition to the condition the Longbottoms were in helped build their case (though, everyone was more than a little peeved that Scrimgeour had outed Neville's parents for the sake of his own reputation as reasoning for Malfoy's freedom). But comparing Malfoy to a pair of war-heroes had been enough to convince the Wizarding world of his innocence.

Before Harry knew it, he was receiving fan mail regarding Malfoy's condition and how proud they were of him for taking care of such a lost case. There were letters _to_ Malfoy from concerned parents, supportive students and even second-gen Death Eaters who wished they could swap sides but didn't have the strength or the support Malfoy had.

Within a week, the parents were sympathetic towards Malfoy's Tower incarceration. They were happy to know that there was a guard by his side at all times, but they were more than fine with Malfoy being there, around their children. Scrimgeour's plan had worked. The public relations department of the Ministry had worked its magic and it was now completely accepted that Malfoy was hidden away in the castle.

But within that week, Harry hadn't seen Malfoy. He hadn't stepped through that door that was constantly locked and guarded and the only reason why he hadn't seen him was because that damned guard wouldn't allow it. During the day, an old, haggard Auror made sure no one got in. Harry had no doubts that the aged Auror had fought his fair share of duels, if his limp was anything to go by.

"What's the use in seeing him when he's unconscious?" he'd asked with a disgusted tone. "He's asleep. You won't get much out of him."

When Harry had tried explaining that the nightmares passed easier when he was there, the Auror scoffed and told him that the 'dirty Death Eater deserve it'. He apparently didn't believe the positive spin the Ministry had given Malfoy.

"So you can come back at night, when he's awake."

But Harry never returned during the night. The guard was different — kinder, even — for the night shift. He was younger than the other and was always more than eager to open the door for Harry. But every time he took that key out, Harry was struck with the need to run. He didn't know what it was, but it was like a punch in the gut. He would apologise, turn and head back to his own dorm, where he had to face Ron's disappointed look yet again.

* * *

Harry wasn't the only one having troubles with his love life. Remus and Tonks were officially separated. Only three days after giving birth, Tonks was back in the training room, taking Remus' place as Harry's opponent while Remus stayed at St Mungo's by the baby's side. Remus appeared for just a moment the day after Teddy's birth and explained to Harry what had happened.

Teddy had been born with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. He hadn't been breathing at first and Tonks…well, the sight of her baby being born blue had been enough to shock her. Immediately, she'd rejected the baby as her own and from there, it just got worse. When she woke up after the mediwitch had put her to sleep, she couldn't remember that she'd given birth. She couldn't remember anything about the baby and the issues surrounding his birth. Sure, she could remember that she'd been pregnant, but the labour and the actual birth were struck from her memories.

It was explained that it was too stressful for her. The last thing a new mother wanted to see was for the baby to not be healthy, let alone breathing. Her mind had guarded the rest of her from it and had blocked the memories, like a trauma victim would. That was easily explainable and Harry found it reasonable. It must have been terrifying to see what Tonks had.

But even as it was explained to Tonks the next day, she continued to reject the child. Remus had sat down with her and had told her that the baby had been born. The doctors had brought Teddy over at that moment and shown him to her, but she couldn't look at him. It was like she couldn't accept a child she couldn't remember giving birth to, even though she didn't want to remember the traumatising birth. She'd told Remus then and there that he had full custody of 'the thing' and willingly gave Teddy over. Legally, she had ten days to decide if she'd stick with her decision.

Remus had expressed to Harry that he thoroughly doubted she'd change her mind. In a world of sadness, Remus relayed Tonks' refusal to see Teddy after that moment. She'd not wanted him in her life and certainly wasn't having him there.

On that third day after giving birth, when Tonks entered the training room, she did so without her engagement ring or the prominent swell of her pregnant belly. She didn't appear to mind the absence of either.

The training session was as much for Tonks as it was for Harry. With the way she darted around, dodging his attacks rather than blocking them, he could tell she was doing it to get her pre-pregnancy body back. She mightn't have had the full weight of a foetus inside her but she still had the roundness that was sure to remain after birth. More than once, she'd complained about her breasts and the heaviness of them but she didn't let that, or their sensitivity to movement, get in the way of giving Harry a good fight. Her magic wasn't as focused as Remus', but she knew a few tricks the old werewolf didn't.

Shacklebolt was pleased with how Harry fought and let him know about it. At the end of the duel with Tonks, he sat with him and gave him a few pointers. When it was time for Harry to face her again, the battle was done with in less than five minutes, with Harry coming out the winner. It surprised them all, but when Harry put his mind to a binding spell, he did it right. He had Tonks' wand arm strapped around her back with the wand tucked in so tightly against her body that there was nothing she could do.

He knew that a binding spell wouldn't work on Voldemort, but it would be enough for any Death Eater that got in the way between them.

Shacklebolt stepped up to the plate next, with Ron as his protector. This was a battle Harry knew would challenge him, as it always did. However, it went by faster than his duel with Tonks. Ron was knocked out in one corner and Kingsley was incapacitated with a giggling hex in the other before either could land a spell on Harry.

That was when Remus arrived, making the room truly awkward (though, having to revive the Head Auror from a giggling hex wasn't pleasant. Don't let it be doubted — Kingsley was not at all happy with Harry and his embarrassing choice of hexes) and apparently three sizes smaller than what it actually was. It was one of those strange moments where you just didn't know where to look as you feared upsetting someone.

Having Remus and Tonks in the same room managed to worsen it. The pair had just had a child together and had been engaged and now they were barely making eye contact.

Frustrated with the tension, Shacklebolt ordered that Ron, Tonks, Remus and even Hermione were to join in him their next attempt to defeat Harry in a training session.

He was being punished for something he wasn't even to blame for. Life, at that moment, was terrible.

* * *

On the eighth night of Harry's shameful return, Ron spoke up.

"Guilt eating you?" he asked, scorn lacing his voice.

"The whole point of this punishment was that I wasn't allowed to see him," Harry replied.

"It wasn't to stop you. It was to limit your time with him. You can't see him during the day but Peterson is more than willing to let you in."

"It's…"

Ron got up from where he was reading his Quidditch magazine on his bed, grabbed Harry by the scruff of his collar and dragged him back out of the room and down the hall.

"Open the bloody door," he commanded of Peterson, who did just that. Then, with one final shove, he through Harry in and cast the strongest locking charms he knew on it. They both knew Harry could break them with ease, but they also knew that Ron would hex him if he dared open that door before he spent any time with Malfoy. Harry might have been stronger than Ron but the redhead had lived with his brothers and probably knew hexes that stung like hell.

As Harry was weighing the pain up — Ron or a hurt Malfoy — his attention was stolen away by a small voice by his side.

"At last!" Winky exclaimed. "Master Harry should not have taken so long to return, sir! Many a bad thing has happened since Master Harry last saw Master Draco and it is all…"

'Winky," Malfoy objected from the bed, causing Harry to turn around completely.

And then his stomach dropped to his feet.

Malfoy was sitting up in the bed, propped p with pillows around his back and a book in his lap. His right cheek was purple and a little swollen and his lip was cut and shining with coagulated blood.

Someone had beaten him.

"What the fuck happened?" Harry asked, swooping forward. He cupped Malfoy's face in his hands gently, turning the blonde's face up to the light so he could examine the wounds better.

"What does it matter? It's just a nightmare."

"Draco! This isn't a dream!" He turned to Winky. "What happened?"

"Master Draco has made Winky promise never to say, sir. Winky is loyal, even though Winky knows it is best if Master Harry knows."

"Why?" When Winky didn't answer, he looked back at Malfoy. "Why'd you order that?"

"The monster said it would be worse if I told anyone. He said he'd hurt you and Winky worse than he ever hurt me."

"Draco, this is the real world. Someone _real_ did this to you. Only two people can get in and both are Aurors. You need to tell me which one…"

"I can't tell you."

"That monster isn't real. It can't hurt you when I'm here, okay?" The same words were stumbling out of Harry's mouth again and again. "Whoever, whatever, hit you was real, unlike your monster…"

"I would never be able to forgive myself if you got hurt, Harry," Malfoy interrupted, surprising Harry as tears welled in his eyes. "Even if it is just a nightmare, it hurts me and I don't want to see it. I hate it."

Harry's hands moved over Malfoy's face, gently healing what he could. The bruises slowly faded and the swelling receded. Tentatively, Harry's thumb swiped over Malfoy's lip, letting the magic flow through his hands to seal that wound up.

"I need to know."

Whatever it was that was going to come from Malfoy's mouth was cut short as a scream replaced it. Instantly, Harry cringed, having felt the same pain in his head while his blonde friend clutched at the burn on his arm.

* * *

It was on the eighth day that tests proved Teddy was healthy enough to be taken home ('home' being Remus' quarters). He was tiny, not even the full length of Remus' forearm and settled quite easily in Hagrid's palm.

Everyone was eager to help Remus with this new responsibility and took Teddy off his hands when it seemed like nothing could stop the crying baby.

Tonks was the only one who didn't lend a hand. After eight days, she was still insisting against having anything to do with a son she couldn't remember bringing to life.

Fascinatingly, at the end of each night, bottles of milk were waiting by his door. He had no doubts that the nutrient-rich liquid was from Tonks so he gave it to the house-elves so they could store it properly. Whenever Teddy was hungry, he was blessed with the milk his mother's body created for him. She may have rejected him, but her body had not.

That night was the first time Snape set eyes on his lover's son. There was a spark there that he couldn't hide and that told Remus everything. He couldn't hide it because he didn't want to. He was openly showing that he wanted to be part of this family, despite how dysfunctional its beginnings. When Remus handed Teddy over, his heart just about stopped when he saw how gentle the war and life-roughened man was with him. A loving hand cupped the back of Teddy's head and be damned is Snape was ever letting go of that boy now that he had him in his arms.

Provided everything worked out in the next few months, this was it. This was their future and neither didn't want it.

"He's beautiful," Snape muttered, looking at the baby in awe. "How could _she_ not want something so perfect?"

Remus shrugged and sat down next to Snape where he'd slipped onto the bed. It had looked as if the taller man's knees had crumbled under him after seeing the boy but he'd hid it well.

"I don't know. I'm hoping she'll talk to a counsellor. He deserves her in his life."

"You can be noble — I'll be selfish."

That was unexpected and it brought a smile to Remus' face.

"I didn't expect you to say something like that."

"I think I'm allowed greater surprise. You sprung a child on me."

Said child gurgled and turned his slightly scrunched face into Snape's chest. A moment later, he was sleeping.

"You're sure about this?" Remus asked. "He isn't always sleeping soundly. When he cries, he's loud, Severus."

"After everything we've been through, I think a crying baby is the least of our problems."

"Wait until he's two. Or sixteen. Dark Lords? This could be a breeze."

"Provided the other child can do his part."

"_The other child_? Planning on adoption, are you?"

"Definitely not." Teddy squirmed at the tone in Snape's voice. "How's Draco?"

"I haven't seen him and Harry hasn't said anything. I don't think he's seen him since."

"They've painted him to be quite the war victim. 'Groomed'? They make it sound like a paedophile's raised him."

"I think that was the intention. It read like the greatest piece of PR the Ministry's ever put out."

"It was." Before Snape could say anymore, he hissed and shoved Teddy back into Remus' arms. Then he was grabbing at his arm with pain evidently showing on his face.

"He's angry. He must know."

"Must know what?"

"Get him out of here," Snape said, pointing at Teddy. "Get him as far away from the castle as you can. The Dark Lord is angry and he's calling an urgent meeting. Alert everyone."

"A meeting isn't cause for alarm."

"It is if he's this angry. If he's found out what I've done, he'll be here in no time whatsoever. Just go. He hasn't much time before he has no choice."

With one final sweep of the boy's brown hair, Snape was running to make his own preparations.

* * *

The screaming was almost too much for Harry to bear. It was bad enough that Harry could feel the anger in his own head but Voldemort was taking it out on all his followers and Draco was no exception. The blonde was clutching at his arm, screaming in pain as he was summoned but forbidden to acquiesce.

"It hurts."

"I know." Harry was now palming his own forehead. "He's not happy."

"What could make him so upset?"

"Snape. He's been working in the shadows for months now, doing what I couldn't."

Draco suddenly rolled over and grabbed for the pouch on the bedside table. "Snape," he repeated and handed it over. "This is what you were looking for. It's what Snape gave me that night."

Harry blinked at him for a moment. "You found it?"

"You need your eyes checked."

The bag was torn open there and then and two lumps of twisted metal fell out. They both had the same decaying stench to them as that dreaded potion did but that was enough to let Harry know what they were. Snape had found these remaining Horcruxes, just as he said he would and he'd taken care of them. He grabbed the note, which had the final directions for the last Horcrux.

_Sword. Snake_.

That was all Harry had to do to put himself on equal footing with the currently immortal created he loathed so much.

"He's coming because of that, isn't he?" Draco asked weakly. All the colour drained from his skin as he feared having the Dark Lord close to him again.

"Yes. I think that's exactly what he's doing." Without thinking, he grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him up and out of bed. "Get dressed. We're going to war."

* * *

The professors were informed and the children were sent through to safe places through the Floo network until all that remained were those who'd trained for this within the DA. Aurors were put in place. They prepared for the worst.

"Are you absolutely certain?" Hermione asked for what had to be the eighth time.

"He's getting closer," Harry confirmed. Draco was standing by his side, nodding his head.

Before long, the Order had assembled. The Weasleys were back in the castle, armed and ready to fight (even Ginny had stayed behind now that she had recovered from her wounds). They were to be the second line of defence, just in case the Aurors were not enough. Remus reappeared just in time, having taken Teddy off to his grandparents'.

Within the hour, the grounds were a buzz of excitement, nerves and fighting spirit as they anxiously waited, jolting at every slight movement.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were waiting within the Hall, ready to fight back anyone got past the first line.

Feeling the dark presence upon them, Harry wrapped his hand around Draco's.

"I love you."

Three of them jumped at the sudden confession that _hadn't_ come from Harry.

Even Ron appeared a bit shocked that those three words had just sprung forth from his mouth, even mortified and Harry finally understood the phrase 'stealing one's thunder'. That was supposed to be his line, to Draco, but when Hermione cried, "Now, of all times, you bumbling, idiotic oaf?" and launched herself into his arms, Harry gave it to them.

When they started kissing, however, Harry tugged on Draco's hand and dragged him away. They stopped when they got to an empty hallway and looked out a window to see the prepared warriors waiting for the battle.

"He took my line, you know?" he asked Draco quietly.

"I didn't know."

"Well he did. I do. I'm…I'm in love with you."

"If we make it through this, you _have_ to kiss me. Understand?"

"Of course." He pulled Draco close to him and wrapped his arms around that thin waist. "I'd kiss you now if it wouldn't fuck everything."

Draco hummed, agreeing, before he squeezed his own arms around Harry's torso. "Don't get yourself killed."

"Same to you." Harry took his wand out from his pocket and handed it over. "Protect yourself. Don't go looking for trouble. If someone comes at you, do what you can to disarm or subdue. You'll likely be a target so stick with Ron. If you get hurt, get to Hermione. If this lasts long enough for the sun to rise, get your fine arse to the Tower and lock yourself in there. I'll wake you."

"That's if you make it alive. You better survive this."

"I'll do my best," Harry chuckled.

"And this is really happening?"

Having heard Draco questioning this stabbed him like it always did. Even now, as they're preparing for the biggest battle of their lives, he's still unsure about the authenticity of the world."It's not a nightmare. We're really here, about to finish this war."

"You look surprisingly calm."

"I'm about to vomit."

A dry laugh came from Draco's throat. "The Saviour of our world is nervous about saving it. Seems like fun."

"You know better than anyone what it's like to be in the same _room_ as him, let alone fighting against him. I've only survived through a blood spell and my nerves. I don't know what to do now that I actually know that I'm going to face him."

"You have the best support our side could muster. People have been training for the past decade for this day in the hopes of supporting you. You've been training for this so hard over these past months. You're ready."

"I'm ready to kill, am I?"

That took Draco by surprise. "No," he said softly. "I don't think anyone with a soul can kill another. I wish you didn't have to do this, but I know about the prophecy and that it has to be you."

"You don't think just locking him up would work?"

"He'd still have his supportive fanatics behind him."

"He'd still have them dead. We'd be turning him into a martyr."

Draco pressed his hand against Harry's chest tenderly. "These people crave power. If he's dead, killed by a teenager, they'd have to face that there's a stronger being out there and that their way wasn't right."

"Being strong doesn't make you right."

"Neither does the purity of your blood but they all believe it does."

"It's interesting having someone who's lived it on this side."

"We have Professor Snape, don't we?"

"He wasn't raised to believe it, though. He found his way there on his own. You, however, were raised to do this." The words weren't meant to hurt, the look on Draco's face instantly told Harry that they did.

"Yes. My parents were evil and terrible and brainwashed me." It was said with spite and sarcasm. "Bloody papers make it seem like I never had a mind of my own."

"They did what they had to so they could cover their arses and mine."

"They sacrificed my parents and their abilities to raise and love their child."

"Well, no offense, but they did get you tortured by a creature they revered."

Draco shrugged out of Harry's embrace. "They're still my parents."

"I know. I'm sorry."

But the awkwardness that had followed him all day returned with a vengeance until they stood, side by side, watching the clouds approach the castle.

Roaring with thunder and blazing with lightning, these ominous clouds were perfect for the impending battle and that was when Harry realised they weren't normal clouds.

As they rippled forward, he started to see the abnormal shapes they created. Skulls and snakes formed as quickly as they disappeared, whipping away like long, black cloaks. The closer they got, the pain Harry felt increased.

"No _fucking_ way," Draco breathed as his own eyes focused on the anomaly.

"He can fly?"

* * *

**Sorry that this is actually more of a filler than anything… It's actually quite a crappy chapter. Well, now it's time to buckle down and write the next one. Hyuuuuuuu...!**


	18. Chapter Eighteen: To Be Late

**Oh my jeepers! I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get out. Full-time work's been pwning me! It's the first time I've ever been a full-time worker and I barely have any time to myself anymore. And then my laptop died. I had everything saved all nicely, but yeah, that happened. **

**So now I'm posting up the second last chapter of Not A Fairytale.**

**Also, if you want to have a look at some of my original work, it's been posted on fictionpress under the name Jinko. There isn't much there yet, but I'm working on it…**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Chapter eighteen of twenty (nineteen plus epilogue).**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: To Be Late**

* * *

They weren't the only ones who'd noticed the clouds. Those who'd been inside rushed outside to see. The large doors were spread wide, showing the terrible wave of approaching enemies.

Voldemort was flying. His form was at the front of the cloud, leading his army that were braced on broomsticks. The clouds rolled forward, bringing the Death Eaters closer and closer with every second until they'd passed over Hogsmeade and came to rest just before the grounds of Hogwarts were defined by law and warding spells.

For a few minutes, the lightning crackled forward and into the barrier that became more visible with every blinding strike that hit it. Right before their eyes, they were forced to watch as the wards were worn down, cracking like a giant pane of glass. The webs of lines lit until they looked like they were burning before they finally crumbled. Lines burned away, shattering until Hogwarts' greatest defence was down.

With that first piece of resistance gone, the clouds continued forward and swooped down. The entirety of Voldemort's army stretched out across the Great Lake, all behind their powerful leader, ready to sacrifice it all.

As Harry's eyes swept across the lines of men and women, he realised that they had every intention of this being their last stand. Not one Death Eater had their hood up or their mask in place. They were coming out as the winners of this war _today_ or they weren't surviving at all.

"Inside, the lot of you," Minerva ordered suddenly and was ushering the remaining students inside. "Hurry, now."

When Harry turned to do just that, he noticed that the final needed piece had been put into place.

In, what must have been a desperate move to keep his final Horcrux safe from Snape, Voldemort had brought Nagini with him and had allocated Bellatrix Lestrange to take care of her.

Those who weren't to be in the front line retreated into the Hall but Harry's mind was already focused on that important attack. He turned to Neville. "Neville," he said quickly, bringing the brave boy to his side. "I need you to go up to Professor McGonagall's office and grab me Gryffindor's Sword."

His dorm mate was apprehensive about leaving the impending battle. "Harry, you can't pull me out like this…"

"I'm not doing that at all. I can't tell you why, but we can't actually, physically win without that sword. I need to stay here in case they break through sooner than we expect, but believe me, this battle — this _war _— comes down to whether if I have this sword or not." His hand clasped around Neville's wrist. "Please."

Neville crumbled. "I'll bring it here as soon as I can."

"Thank you."

With that, Harry took Ron and Hermione aside but paused when he saw Draco. "I'm sorry but there's something I have to do that I can't tell you…"

"I understand," Draco responded instantly. "I'll do what I can here. You take care of yourself. I want to be awake the next time the sun's up."

Harry nodded his head and turned to his two best friends. "Nagini is here."

"With Lestrange," Hermione agreed.

"We need to get to her. We can't defeat Voldemort if she's still alive."

"What's the plan then?" Ron asked. "We're behind you the whole way, mate. Anything you decide."

Again, Harry nodded his head. "Before I can face him, we have to get rid of her, first. I know we're meant to stay back here to be careful, but we have to go out there and get her. The others don't know why we need it so badly and we can't keep relying on Snape for it. He's twice the target anyone else is on that battlefield. So when Neville comes back, we'll take the sword and see how far we can get without being recognised. We need to stay away from Voldemort until we're ready."

Ron couldn't hold back the scoff. "I don't think I'll ever be ready."

Comfortingly, Hermione's hand ducked out and wrapped around his wrist. "We have to be. This isn't just Harry who needs us today. Everyone does."

That was all it took for Ron's back to straighten and his shoulders to set. For his own little burst of reassurance, Harry quickly looked out the corner of his eye to see Draco standing by the window, looking out. His own hand was rubbing up and down his forearm, but in a completely different way to Hermione's warm grip on Ron's limb. In the next moment, though, he was jumping and turning in alarm at the sound of someone approaching him.

Nervously, Harry's wand fell to the ground with a crash as the tool bounced slightly. Charlie Weasley had moved over to the blonde and was bending down to pick up the wand. Harry watched intently, keeping an eye on his potential lover to make sure nothing bad was going to happen. It was the last thing he needed to focus on, but when Draco slunk back into himself and tried his hardest to avoid the Weasley, Harry realised that he might have to intervene and protect him.

When Charlie tried to hand the wand over, Draco took several steps back until he was backed into the corner. Charlie stepped back himself, giving Draco the needed room to breathe. Harry could hear him apologising before the redhead turned to him for assistance. With a sigh, Harry walked up to them and slipped in next to Draco, who wasn't too sure at first.

"Not…not too close," he warned and Harry could tell that he was confused and might have even considered Harry to be the monster.

"Alright," Harry complied, raising his hands in a defensive position and backing away slightly. "But this is real, remember? You found the pouch and now Voldemort's here…"

Swallowing, Draco seemed to need a minute to compose himself. He was mentally checking the events of the night to see what was real and what wasn't.

"Where's Winky?" he suddenly asked and Harry saw his eyes spark back to life.

"Why?"

"The monster…he said he'd hurt her. Where is she?"

"The monster isn't real," Harry repeated again. "He can't hurt her because he's not in this world. He's only in your head…"

"Some monsters are real." And with that, he tenderly touched the side of his face — the side Harry had healed with his magic. "Some of it's been real."

Harry's breath caught and he stepped up, regardless to the distance Draco had wanted. "Who hurt you? I…"

"Harry!"

Neville had just returned with the Sword and possibly to receive the 'Worst Timing' award. Harry whipped around to look at the other Gryffindor, whose arms were wrapped around the blade, which was wrapped up in a blanket that protected his arms.

"Just a second," Harry called back and moved to cup Draco's face in his hands. "I need to know who hurt you."

But before Draco could answer him, the first explosion rocked the castle. The fight had begun.

"Harry," Charlie said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. Seeing him so close had Draco shuffling back again.

Frustrated, Harry snatched the wand from Charlie and returned it to Draco. "Don't drop it again. It doesn't matter what you hear, alright? I want you to protect yourself, no matter what." He turned to yell at the others. "No one goes near him if you want to keep your heads. If he doesn't hex you, I will." Looking back at Draco, Harry took a deep breath before continuing. "No one who isn't a Death Eater has a reason to be near you. Anyone who comes close to you is bad, alright?"

Draco barely had time to nod his head before Harry was embracing him quickly and leaving him to deal with the war. On his way past him, he reached out and grabbed Charlie by the cuff of his robes to drag him back with him and deposited him among his other brothers.

"We need to get out," Harry decided, already heading towards the door. He took the sword off Neville.

"Where do you think you're going?" Molly demanded, appearing out of nowhere. "If you think I'm going to let you…"

"Mum," Ron interrupted. "Hermione and I are here to support Harry. We've been training for so long now. We have to help him win this and he can only do it by being out there." He squared his shoulders as he tried to gather the strength he needed to defy his mother. If you want our side to win this war, we need to be out there, fighting the way it was meant to be."

Harry could see that all Molly wanted to do was draw her son back because _this_ wasn't his fight at all but when she tore her eyes away from him and looked at Harry, her resolve crumbled. He was part of their family, no matter who he ended up with and she'd never see him do this on his own.

"I want all three of you to come back with _all_ your limbs when that's bastard's dead."

Of course, her slightly harsher than usual words stunned them, but when something — some_one_ — crashed against the doors, their attention quickly returned the battle raging outside.

With a final glance back at the anxious people in the Hall, Harry pushed at the doors and stepped out into the warzone.

And what a warzone it was already. The body that had been flung towards them wasn't one of their own — it was a Death Eater Harry couldn't place. They quickly sidestepped the unconscious man and headed into the fray.

Bodies were everywhere. Dead or unconscious, Harry didn't know; there was no discrimination in the bodies. People Harry recognised from both factions were down as they tried to gain or defend ground.

In the middle of the ground, in front of the Lake, was a ball of light. Magic was twisting all around, zapping and crackling and snapping unlike anything Harry had ever seen. It was almost beautiful if you ignored that each flash was a curse or a hex designed to kill or main. White flashes and small explosions were enough to tell Harry that Voldemort was in the middle of that ball, fighting.

He could feel the glee the other wizard felt as he killed. It disgusted Harry, right down to his toes. Everything about this creature was sickening.

A sharp tugging on his arm took his attention away. Turning quickly, he found a pair of grey eyes staring up at him.

"No. What are you doing out here?" His hands grabbed for Draco's shoulders. "You need to go back, Draco. You're a target out here."

"The monster was there," Draco explained.

This had to be the worst thing Harry could have asked for. "Draco…"

"The Auror, Harry. The guard. He came down and…"

"Fuck," Harry hissed and looked around. Both Hermione and Ron were behind him, keeping an eye out to make sure they were still safe. A stray spell came their way but was rebounded by a shield from Ron.

"We're sitting ducks out here," Ron snapped. "What are you going to do with him?"

Harry's hand rose to cup Draco's cheek. "You have to go hide. Get into the forest and hide the best that you can. Don't draw any attention to yourself. We'll deal with him later, okay?"

"I can do that." With one last squeeze of Harry's hands on Draco's arms, the blonde was running towards the forest, dodging spells that had missed their targets.

Focusing again, Harry turned to his two best friends. "We need to find Nagini?"

But before they could start looking, they found themselves at the end of two wands. Seniors Crabbe and Goyle were pointing their wands at them.

"You'll be coming with us," Goyle said, looking quite pleased with himself. The smile was wiped from his face the moment Harry pushed them over with the slightest flare of his magic. They were dealt with faster than any duel he'd had with Kingsley and it was then that they realised how strong he really was. The two Death Eaters were on their backs in a matter of seconds and the trio were leaving the scene, weaving through the duelling wizards like they were nothing.

After two minutes, the snake was spotted by Ron, who pointed it out to Harry. Nagini and Lestrange had taken to the Forbidden Forest, keeping safely hidden by the trees.

Harry wondered how it must have pained Lestrange to not be involved in the fight. Surely she must have done something to piss off Voldemort that badly — perhaps she had been in charge of one of the Horcruxes Snape destroyed. Checking over his shoulder quickly at the ball of light, Harry could see that there were enough Aurors there (and oh, how he hoped the one who'd hurt Draco was there) to keep Voldemort at least occupied for the time being. They'd have enough time to get into the forest to kill the snake and get back out to kill Voldemort.

So they took off, following the same path Draco had taken.

Only, they weren't so lucky.

Before they could reach the border, Ron let out a cry, causing Harry to look back sharply. The redhead was on the ground, clutching at his left arm, or what was left of it.

"Ron!" Hermione cried and fell beside him, already working on healing it. Harry followed shortly, sending out a barrage of heavy hexes towards any Death Eater that was remotely close enough to have injured Ron. Three went down and were quickly restrained by their Auror counterparts.

Hermione got to work, casting some of the most powerful and complex healing spells Harry had ever seen. If she wasn't disinfecting the wound, she was rebuilding the muscles or the tissue or the bone. Numbing spells flew from her wand, increasing with each pained moan that came from Ron's mouth.

And then they were noticed. Death Eaters flanked them when they realised the Chosen One was distracted.

They obviously had orders to capture instead of kill because the first hex sent his way was a restraining hex. Rope burst forth from the tip of the Death Eater's wand and constricted around Harry's chest and arms. Had he relied on his own wand, he'd be doomed but the ropes were sliced with little more than a thought. Enraged and filled with the need to protect his family, Harry stood and started to duel against the four Death Eaters around them. None could be recognised by Harry and that suited him just fine. It meant these weren't high on Voldemort's favourites list so they mustn't have been too strong. Three minutes later, he had them disarmed and tied up.

When he turned back around, he was thankful to see that Remus' arm somewhat resembled an arm again but not enough for them to be clear.

"We should get back inside," Harry decided and Hermione instantly agreed. He was in no state to be out in a battle. He needed proper attention.

An Auror ran past them, an older, plump man Harry couldn't place, but he grabbed for him and pulled him aside.

"Can you escort Hermione and Ron back to the castle? He needs to get immediate attention." The Auror eyed the redhead and instantly levitated him towards the castle. "I'll be fine," he said when Hermione looked torn between the two boys. "But keep an eye out for Taylor, the day guard. I think he's the one who hurt Draco."

With a nod of her head, Hermione followed the Auror and Ron's body. Harry continued on towards the forest, cursing those in his way. Nagini was his priority, so he followed her trail until he found himself weaving through the trees of the forest, trying to hear the snake and her guardian. It was easy enough when he realised Nagini left behind a singular line in the soil beside Lestrange's petite footsteps.

They weren't too far in. In fact, they were as far as the closest clearing was and that was something Harry was going to have to smack himself for later. When he reached them, he realised it had been a trap all along. Why would Voldemort give his most precious possession to one of his strongest fighters? If he knew Harry was after the final Horcrux, of course he'd follow Lestrange and Nagini anywhere.

Lestrange stood facing him in the clearing, obviously having expected his chase. He came to a stop a few metres away from her and braced himself for any attack she might come up with.

"Baby Potter without his wand," Lestrange taunted, pointing her own wand at the boy. "What makes you think you could do any damage without a wand? Were you so scared that you forgot to bring it out with you?"

"I don't need it," Harry breathed as Nagini's flickering tail caught his eye. She was hiding behind Lestrange, well aware of Harry's intentions towards her.

"This isn't a duel in class. This is real."

It was everything he'd said to Draco.

"I have no delusions about that and I know that I'm more than strong enough to take you one without a wand."

She was eyeing the broadsword he had in his right hand. "I can't imagine a sword would do you any good." Her wand whipped through the air as she tried to dislodge the weapon from his grip. With little more than a flash in his eyes giving him away, Harry blocked the spell and the magic crackled around them for a moment.

With an impressed shriek, Lestrange giggled and tried again, putting more effort behind it. Again, Harry's magic intercepted her own, resulting in a thunder-like crack resonating through the clearing as their magic clashed. A third time had the closest tree splitting and was followed by a Cruciatus, just to test Harry. He dodged it instead of reflecting it. Looking back at it, Harry wasn't sure if that was the greatest tactic. It said that he wasn't confident in his ability to defend against an Unforgivable.

They continued on, exchanging blows that never landed until, finally, Harry caught her unaware and managed to sneak a vine from the ground to wrap around her ankle. The brief moment Harry had to celebrate the small win was ruined by her jumping on the attack, disarming him. Gryffindor's Sword flew from his hand and he watched out the corner of his eye as it landed tip-down into the ground. She was on him in the next instant, landing the Cruciatus.

The pain hit him as strong as he remembered it would, setting his every nerve alight and forcing him into the foetal position as he tried to shake it off. She wouldn't let up, though.

Harry, in retrospect, would never know how long he was actually under the curse for but when it was finally broken, he could only remember the nauseating pain that was quickly followed by confusion. As he struggled to get up, he saw that Lestrange was unconscious on the ground some metres away from him and Nagini wasn't too far away. Two figures came into his line of site after that. The first had his heart beating so hard in his chest he'd thought it would burst. Draco was standing just off to his right and rushed forward to help him up.

As they straightened, with Draco supporting Harry along his right side, the second person stepped up and melted Harry all over again. While he was happy to see that Draco was fine, he was devastated to see Lucius Malfoy. He couldn't imagine what sort of effect it would have on Draco's mind.

"Father?" Draco asked and with a wave of Lucius' wand, everything changed.

The sword that had been staked into the ground rose up. The next time Harry saw it, it was sticking out of his chest and he was lying on his back, staring up at the night sky and the leaves of the trees.

* * *

Draco couldn't believe what he'd just witnessed. Just as he was helping Harry up from the ground after being attacked with the Cruciatus, his father had walked in on them. He didn't know who'd stopped the curse and for the briefest of moments, he'd thought it had been his father.

"Father?"

He couldn't hear what he'd said, but his breath had caught in his throat when that great sword had been pulled from the dirt by some invisible force and was sent in his and Harry's direction. The sound of metal penetrating flesh was a sound he'd never forget after having been tortured with various different techniques but when Harry had crumpled into his arms, all the pain he'd ever suffered was suddenly moot.

A scream unlike anything Draco had ever heard came from Harry.

That sword was sticking out of Harry's chest and his brunette was having trouble breathing. Blood poured from the wound and the next thing Draco knew, he was helping Harry down to the ground.

"No," he breathed, somehow finding it in him to get oxygen into his lungs. "No, no..."

"Draco," Lucius tried, approaching the two teens.

Draco turned on his own father, grabbing Harry's wand out of his pocket to hold it against Lucius' body. "Don't move."

"Let me explain."

A gurgle from Harry stole Draco's attention away. The Gryffindor was struggling. Blood was staining the front of his shirt. "You have to hold on," Draco told him, trying to comfort him by stroking a hand through his hair. "Alright? We need Hermione. I'll find her and she'll patch you up, okay?" Draco was struggling, himself. "I'm not going to leave you."

When Lucius ignored Draco's warning, it barely registered with the blonde. He didn't realise until Lucius' hand was around the hilt of the sword, pulling it from Harry's chest.

With a cry, Harry's body rose slightly as the older man dislodged it from his body.

"I'll just borrow this for a second," Lucius said and turned away.

Harry passed out and Draco launched himself at his father. With an anguished cry, he was on his feet and was pushing at the taller man's chest.

"You don't even know!" he shouted in a raging fit. "You killed him!"

Tenderly — a tenderness Draco had never seen of his father — Lucius gently held on to his son's shoulders and steadied him. "He's not going to die. He's still breathing."

Draco wasn't listening. "I love him."

The sword was driven into the ground again and this time, Lucius surrounded Draco with his arms and held him close to his chest. "He'll break the spell for you, I know. He'll be fine. I'd never condemn you to that, my son." Lucius had one arm wrapped around Draco's back while the other hand gently cupped the back of Draco's head. "Find a healer. I'll take care of this for him."

And with that, Lucius let Draco go and turned to find Nagini. Draco watched for a teary moment as his father froze the serpent with a spell and brought the blade down across its wide, cylindrical body to sever her head.

That same scream that had come from Harry when the sword had entered his body tore through the forest again and then Harry was making a noise, bringing Draco's attention back to him.

Quickly, Draco was on his knees beside Harry again. The brunette was now lying with his hand over the gushing wound, so Draco tore the sleeve from his robes and wadded it up to apply pressure. He wasn't sure if it would have any effect whatsoever but it was the only thing he could think to do.

Lucius returned. "Go find someone to heal him," he demanded. "I'll keep guard until you do."

"You're the one who hurt him."

Exasperated, Lucius lowered himself down to his knees as well and reached out for Draco's elbow. "I did what I had to. I want this war over as soon as you do, Draco. You don't understand what it's been like for me to know that you've been here all this time, suffering from these nightmares. I've had my own moments with the Dark Lord and I know that he's not always kind. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel his wrath as well."

"You failed."

"I know. I've failed in many aspects but a reliable source has told me that Mister Potter is the only person in this world who can save you and I'm not going to take this away from you."

"But you…"

"The _prophecy_, Draco!" Lucius stressed. "I cannot kill him. Only the Dark Lord can. I might have dealt him a fatal blow but it didn't come from the Dark Lord himself. I only killed the darkness inside him put there by the Dark Lord."

"What darkness?" His hands hadn't left Harry's body.

"He can explain later. We need to find him a healer. They're not going to believe me if I approach them."

Torn, Draco spent half a minute making up his mind. With a frustrated groan, he pushed himself up to his feet. "I'll be right back. If you do anything, Father, I swear…"

"I know. Go."

And he was off running like he hadn't run before. Leaping over raised tree roots, he made his way back to the castle faster than he'd expected. The Great Hall was being defended by Aurors but they let him in. Inside the Hall were bodies, from both factions, being tended to while those capable were rushing around, doing what they could. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey were both there, dashing from one person to another, healing cuts and burns. He spotted a flash of red and realised that at least two of the Weasley children were lying down on the tables that were makeshift beds. Ron was definitely one of them.

Ginny was the first to notice him. She grabbed for his arm so she could examine it, checking for the wound that created the blood that now covered his hands.

"No," Draco objected throatily and pulled his hands away from hers. "It's not mine. I need Hermione…"

"What is it?" she asked and Draco could hear that she was speaking to him like he was a child. Her tone was much softer than it should have been and she was avoiding eye-contact like she expected it to set him off or something.

"Lucid moment," he commented offhandedly. When Hermione bustled past him, he caught her. Not even giving her an explanation, he started to pull her out of the Hall and out into the battle.

"Malfoy," Hermione objected, digging her heels in to stop them from moving any further. "Whose blood is that?"

"Harry's."

That was enough for her to loosen up and let him lead the way to the fallen Boy-Who-Lived. They moved quickly, repelling the curses that flew their way and even left two Death Eaters unconscious before they got to Harry.

Hermione's wand was instantly held against Lucius when she saw him so close to Harry's prostrate body but Draco lowered her arm so she wasn't a threat against his father. "He's been protecting him," Draco explained and rushed to be by Harry's side. Lucius stepped back far enough to give the teens the room they needed to work on Harry.

"He was stabbed by the sword?" Hermione gasped and immediately changed moods. Her wand was now focused on Harry and stopping the blood flow.

"Yes. And then Father killed the snake."

It was enough to shock Hermione into looking up at Lucius. "Severus told me all about the little task Dumbledore left for you children."

"Giving you the secrets to immortality has to be the worst idea he's had."

"You've been dealing with Horcruxes all this time?" Draco asked, clearly surprised. "That's what you needed that potion for. And that's what you killed in Harry…"

"You _know_ about Horcruxes?" Hermione nearly shrieked. When both Malfoys gave her a blank look, she lowered her head and returned to healing Harry. The blade had sliced into his ribcage but she'd at least sewn the inner tissue together.

"The prophecy states he can't be killed by anyone but the Dark Lord. When I realised he had a Horcrux within him, I decided to take the chance," Lucius clarified. "You children certainly wouldn't have risked it and the last thing Severus would want to do is stab Lily Evan's child in the heart, physically."

"You're turning your back on the man you've followed for so long?"

Lucius moved closer, minutely, so he could place a hand on the back of Draco's neck. "He hurt my son. The Dark Lord isn't alone in my betrayal."

"Mother," Draco figured with an upset stomach.

He had very little time to dwell on it though because Hermione's healing spells had worked and Harry was again breathing properly. Moments after his chest started to expand with his easy breathing, his eyes fluttered open.

"Ow," he grumbled, sitting up. "What the hell just happened?" He noticed Lucius and got to his feet quickly. Then, as was natural when taking into consideration the amount of blood he'd lost over the past few minutes, his sight was invaded by small black dots and he ended up on his rear right where he'd been lying.

"I haven't given you enough blood to make up for the amount you just lost."

"I-what? And what's _he_ doing here?"

"He's on our side," Draco told him. "He took care of the Horcrux inside you."

Harry's head whipped around to Hermione, accusingly. The look on her face — the disbelief that he'd believe she would have said anything — was enough to tell him that she'd not said a word.

"Professor Snape told Mister Malfoy and Draco apparently knows what a Horcrux is," Hermione sighed, now waving her wand to replenish his blood, perhaps the way Poppy initially did to Ginny when she was first brought into the Medical Wing after Draco attacked her. Colour instantly returned to Harry's face at least and he found that the slight headache he'd been experiencing was gone.

"Wait. Was I just stabbed…?" He looked down at the stained material of his robes. There was a hole in the font of them, supporting that theory. "You stabbed me?"

"There is a war happening," Lucius reminded him, cocking his head towards the Lake from where streaks of light filtered through the trees. He pulled his wand out again and pointed it at Lestrange. "Avada Kedavra."

The clearing filled with green light, so unlike the brightness that came from Voldemort's own power. Harry looked at Draco for the briefest moment and wasn't shocked to see that his face wasn't showing the slightest bit of emotion after having witnessed his father kill his aunt. He looked just like the boy he knew prior to this year and it bothered Harry a little. No one should show no emotion after seeing your own blood die before your eyes.

But Harry stood anyway and grasped Draco's forearm. "Are you alright?" he asked him and that got Draco's face to change.

"You were the one run through with a sword. How do _you_ feel?"

"Hermione's amazing with healing spells." Harry turned his attention to Lucius. "I can't promise you anything regarding your future and my ability to keep you out of Azkaban." He motioned towards Lestrange. "You belong imprisoned."

"I'm aware and I'll go back once this is over. For now, I'll fight on your side to help you make this world better for my son," Lucius conceded and headed towards the fight. "Severus will need all the help he can get. Just make sure you and Draco survive this, Mister Potter."

"It's one of my higher priorities."

"It's my highest."

An elegant, pale hand stretched out and patted Draco on the shoulder, the opposite to the arm Harry had his own hold on. And then it was gone and Lucius Malfoy was heading towards the light.

* * *

By the time the three teens got out into the open again, the grounds were littered with bodies. People were rushing to each one, doing what they could for the injured and leaving behind the dead. It seemed like hardly any time had passed between their entering the forest and leaving it, but the carnage told them another story.

Instantly, they were thrown into a duel. Death Eaters approached and tried to tie them up to take to their leader, but they fought back. Harry was much stronger than both Draco and Hermione combined, but when Draco was Stunned, Hermione was there in an instant, reviving him and taking away that aching pain that often lingered after that red flash connected. All three were stunned when a hand came from nowhere to help Draco up while Harry defended them, making sure no one unwanted approached and got through his defences.

"Ron!" Hermione gasped when she saw that it was him who was helping the blonde up.

Ron's arm was heavily bandaged and he was still a little white in the face, making his freckles stand out like they were painted on with fluorescent colours. But he had his wand in his other hand, wedged between two fingers as he held on to Draco's robes to heave him up.

"Can't have you lying down on the job, Malfoy," Ron teased but it was obvious he was in pain and struggling to be out there, where he felt he needed to be.

"Definitely not," Draco agreed and got back to fighting, protecting Harry. Ron joined in and the three worked to keep every Death Eater away from Harry as he fought through the ranks to get to Voldemort.

A time Harry couldn't judge passed before he felt the wave of rage that surged through the battlefield and was forced to brace himself against the attack that he knew was coming. They must have gotten too close to Voldemort or perhaps word on both Lestrange and Nagini had gotten to him, but the Dark Lord was far from happy. The anger hit Harry a moment before the white light exploded with a force strong enough to knock everyone who was unprepared for it off their feet. Harry didn't have the time to protect or warn Hermione, Ron or Draco and the three were lifted up in the air about two feet before they were thrown back.

The attack was indiscriminate. Death Eaters and Aurors alike were swept from their feet and flung several paces back. Some were slow to get back up to their feet and by the time that they had, Harry and Voldemort were facing each other, ready for the final battle.

"You've lost your wand," Voldemort noted, looking Harry up and down.

"And you've lost your snake," Harry replied, feeling smug about the way Voldemort's face darkened with rage. Harry poked at his own chest, emphasising the torn material. "Your last Horcrux is gone, too."

"You couldn't have killed Bellatrix on your own."

"You've pissed off quite a few powerful families out there and they're apparently more than willing to help me bring you down."

With a sneer, Voldemort's eyes left Harry and settled on Draco. "I've no doubt Lucius has joined your side." Message sent, he turned back to Harry.

"Either way, it doesn't matter. We've stripped you of your immortality and now…now it's time to end it," Harry said and with a thought, he sent a wave of power at Voldemort. Caught unprepared for Harry's wordless and wandless talents, Voldemort stumbled a few steps back before his face stretched with glee.

"Oh, how this might be interesting."

He responded with a slashing spell, obviously meant to test Harry's powers. A wave of Harry's hand had a shield lifting between him and the hex and an extra barrier came from Ron, silently. He hoped Voldemort hadn't caught his best friend's assistance, lest he become a target, himself.

From there, though, the fight began. They'd exchange blows, gauging each other's attacks and the strength they had. Blow after blow was blocked, dodged and neutralised while Aurors and Death Eaters stood aside, watching the flashes of brightly coloured light.

Once, a Death Eater tried to intervene, but in a green blaze, he was killed by Voldemort, himself. Apparently, the serpentine man was the only one allowed to fight against Harry. And that didn't bother Harry at all. It meant that he only had to worry about Voldemort's attacks (not that he was worried his friends wouldn't have been capable of protecting his back if he needed it).

Right there, in front of the Lake, he and Voldemort struggled for dominance against each other, hoping that the next curse would be enough to stop the other, or at least stagger him. After many minutes, nothing gave. Each shield was as strong as each attack, stopping either from gaining any ground. Pacing off against each other, never once giving anyone else any attention provided they kept their distance, the final battle got underway.

As Harry circled around fully and ended up facing the Lake, however, he spotted trouble.

The sky was mottled with pink and orange clouds and the last thing they really needed was for Draco to collapse where he stood, completely asleep. He turned, quick as he could to waste as little time as possible.

"Get back to the Tower, Draco!" he shouted before snapping his head back towards Voldemort in time to block another hex. It wasn't meant to kill him; it would have been little more than an irritant.

"How precious," he taunted. "Are you the one to break my curse?"

With an annoyed glare, Harry sent him a stinging hex and in the next moment, Voldemort had reacted differently. For that brief moment, he'd let his guard down and in a flurry of movement, the hex connected and he dropped his wand in surprise.

When their eyes met — Harry expressing his shock and Voldemort expressing his absolute rage — Harry realised he had but seconds to protect his loved ones for embarrassing Voldemort like that.

"Go!" he shouted at his friends, pushing them back with his own burst of magic before Voldemort could pick up his wand an attack them.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, aiming at Draco, but a rush of black and white intercepted.

"Father!" Draco cried, catching his dead sire as he fell.

"Ron! Get him out of here!" Harry demanded again. As terrible as it was, they didn't have time to mourn Lucius' death. The sun was rising and would soon send Draco to sleep. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ron physically drag Draco up to his feet and pull him away from the still-warm corpse.

It sent the others into a frenzy. The Death Eaters did what they could to kill the trio of teens now that their lord had tried to kill one and the Aurors moved to defend them as they retreated.

Pandemonium broke loose.

Spells were fired in every direction, not being aimed. It was so crazy that Harry didn't notice the familiar figure following Draco through the chaos.

* * *

The moment Ron got inside, he spotted Auror Peterson and called him over. "The sun's rising," he hurriedly explained, obviously eager to get back by Harry's side. "Take him upstairs and make sure he's sage."

Draco objected instantly as he was passed on. "N-no! Please, no!" he shoulder and fought back.

"There's nothing you can do for him," Ron tried. "Your father…he saved you. You can't throw that away by falling _asleep_ in the middle of a duel!"

Draco was fighting, pushing against Peterson's chest until the Auror finally stupified him and caught his unconscious body. Slinging him over his shoulder, Peterson looked at Ron.

"He'll be taken care of. You get back to Harry's side. He'll need you."

The two males parted ways — Ron turned and ran back outside while Peterson headed further into the castle. Hermione would have followed Ron if it weren't for the footsteps she couldn't place. Everyone was bustling about, tending to the wounded, but there was one pair she could hear that didn't quite match up with the rest. They were slow, calm, unlike the rushing of the carers.

And then her eyes caught the door Peterson had just disappeared through. It opened on its own.

"No," she gasped and followed, moving as fast as she could. She traced the Auror, who was taking the quickest route to the Tower, but even with Draco slung over his shoulders, he was still too far away from her to warn him and she couldn't tell where the invisible pursuer was.

It was the stairs that truly ruined the chase for her. The magical staircase that moved moved at the wrong time. They shifted just as Hermione stepped foot on them, taking her in a different direction. Several floors above her, she could hear those heels clacking along the marble.

"Shit!" she cursed and smacked her hand — wand and all — against the railing there. In a burst of magic she'd only felt from Harry before, the staircase stopped mid-move and started to return. Shrugging off the shock of magically altering the castle's normal behaviour, she scaled the stairs before it'd properly joined with the landing.

The chase ensued.

As Hermione ran along the hallway, she checked out a window to see the sun rising over the Lake, and Harry and Voldemort fighting to the death.

Both Peterson and the invisible person were gone but they didn't bother hiding where they were going. By the time she'd reached the Fat Lady, the portrait had closed the door, but she wasn't looking pleased.

"There's someone…" she started but decided on just opening up when Hermione didn't start to slow down her pace. Hermione leapt through the doorway and continued on upstairs.

Peterson looked shocked as he closed the door to Draco's room behind him, having already deposited the now sleeping blonde. But what caught Hermione's attention wasn't his surprise.

No, he was rolling down his sleeve, which had exposed his Dark Mark.

Before he could even react, Hermione had her own wand raised. She wasn't even sure which hex she used on him, for it was mostly instinctual, but once it was over, Peterson was unconscious and slumped between the wall and the floor. Two steps later, Hermione was bending over him and taking back Harry's key. She quickly unlocked the door but was faced with a sight that had her stomach dropping to her toes.

Bent over the bed was Pansy Parkinson.

And she had her lips pressed to Draco's.

* * *

Harry was exhausted. He'd been battling much longer than he was used to with his lessons with Remus and Kingsley — both of which he hadn't seen in hours — and it didn't seem like it was going to stop any time soon. They'd both landed minor hexes on each other but nothing serious to stop the battle.

But as they paced around each other, still, Harry saw it. It was a flash in Gryffindor Tower that had him pausing. Something had happened. Someone had cast a spell, a powerful spell from the feeling he received from it. He froze. The thought of Draco having been caught in that spell froze Harry's blood.

He could have been hurt. He could have…

The thought was never completed. A torrent of green light filled his line of view and all he could think about was how Draco was in trouble. He needed to be there.

There was pain, there was no doubt of that. It tore through Harry's body, combusting like match-heads, but even in that, he could only think about Draco and how Draco needed that kiss. Harry's existence, in that moment, boiled down to what Draco needed from him and that was when the pain disappeared.

The light changed. Rather than consuming him, it crept backwards as if a wave was pushing it back. Harry became aware of more than just that light and Draco and suddenly, he realised, he'd turned the spell back on Voldemort.

It was, understandably, unexpected and Voldemort hadn't protected himself against it. When the world was lit the way it was supposed to be and Harry's pupils dilated, adjusting to the lack of brightness, he found himself looking at the dead body of the Dark Lord.

Everyone realised what had happened and as it sunk in, the Death Eaters gave up, more or less. Restraining them became a sight task.

Surprised eyes focused on Harry, but that had to wait. He had a promise to keep — a loved one to check on. Ignoring those approaching him, Harry turned on his heel and dashed as quickly as he could to the castle.

* * *

What he found tore him to pieces. Peterson was down, the door was wide open, Hermione was standing over an unconscious Pansy Parkinson and his Invisibility Cloak was on the ground. More importantly, Draco was writing on the bed like he was burning inside.

"What happened?" Harry asked, sliding onto the bed to try to still Draco. His usually calming hands were useless.

"I got here in time to see her kissing him," Hermione breathed. Her eyes were already filled with tears.

"No." His hands grasped on to Draco's face, holding him still before he bent down to press a kiss to Draco's lips. When he pulled away, he felt his own tears burn his eyes. "Come on, you git." Nothing changed. "True love's first kiss, right? That was it. Our first kiss." Hands tightened in Draco's hair. "Wake up."

Hermione hiccupped beside him, covering her mouth as she started to cry.

"Wake up."

* * *

**Everything will be explained, don't you worry. Loose ends will be tied and it's not just gonna be jumlbed crap. I just can't guarantee when that chapter will be up, though. The epilogue's at least been written...**


	19. Chapter Nineteen: To Hope & Epilogue

**Wow, guys, I am so sorry that this has taken so long. I keep using work as an excuse, and really, it has been killing me. I've just finished my first weekend off since April. Oh my jeepers. **

**Anyway. This is the end. Not only for NaF, but also for me as a writer in the Drarry fandom. I know I've got HoS and MOC to finish (and I might finish, if I get the urge to write Drarry again), along with half a dozen plots I've talked about, but I'm finding that I'm not improving as a writer for as long as I'm writing for this fandom, if that makes any sense. I'm just not enjoying it. I don't feel any pride (I **_**absolutely HATE **_**MBUS**_**, **_**for example. I should be proud of it and everything I've achieved with it, but I hate it with a fiery passion) for what I've written and that only piece I've ever really loved is the story I'm hoping to get published. I'll continue other fandoms — Supernatural, Merlin, Sherlock — I'm just done with this one. It's been nine years since I jumped on this wagon and it's about time I changed it up a bit.**

**Thank you to those who've been with me for the ride.**

**Disclaimer: Do not own. I'm not profiting from this hobby of mine.**

**Status: Complete.**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: To Hope**

* * *

Draco didn't wake.

* * *

They were celebrating. Word carried faster than anyone had expected and before long, the grounds were covered by journalists and curious youngsters and disbelieving elders that needed to see the proof.

However, the body was quickly whisked away so those prying eyes didn't see anything the Ministry didn't want them to see. The dead and the injured were rushed to the Hall, where they were catalogued if dead and treated to if injured.

Those who hadn't participated in the fight were turned away at the doors. Before midday, a large group had congregated; bottles of alcohol hidden in their robes (or blatantly in their hands if they'd had enough to sample already). It had started to look like the Quidditch World Cup or some sort of Muggle music festival.

For this very reason, Aurors and members of the Order were told to stay inside the castle. Floos were cut off but relatives — especially the parents of the students in Dumbledore's Army — were allowed in as special cases. Tents were pitched, reporters were ready, shifting with every silhouette that passed by the windows. The silhouettes, however, provided entertainment for the alcohol-influenced youngsters who figured any shadow could have been that of their saviour.

Their saviour, however, was missing. He'd long singe locked himself in in Draco's room, waiting for night to fall so his love would wake.

* * *

Draco didn't wake by eleven in the morning.

* * *

Remus disappeared for a short time. When he returned, it was without Teddy and with a silver wisp or two in a vial. He requested an audience with the Order and the Minister and wouldn't say why until it was granted.

So they assembled in Dumbledore's former office, Scrimgeour looking not-so-pleased that he was being dragged to the castle — he apparently wanted to be there for the world's greatest autopsy. Nevertheless, he gave the war hero (they were _war heroes_ now) the attention he wanted and was genuinely shocked by his presentation

It was Remus' plea to see that Severus was innocent.

"I know that none of us want to believe it — he killed Albus — but I promise you, it wasn't his choice. I have his memories as proof."

And with that, he added the wisp to the Pensieve and took them with him into the memory.

It didn't take long for Minerva to cave. She watched the conversation, Albus' consent and Severus' unhappiness. Scrimgeour was forced to admit he could see what Severus had done what was asked of him — it was euthanasia, not murder.

"I want you to see this, too." He dragged them through to the next memory.

They were following Severus. He was running away from the largest snake any of them had ever seen. Doors were shut in a hurry and the snake was locked out. They watched as he got Draco out of the manor, at the risk of his own life and they saw how he got Draco through to Hogwarts. Scrimgeour wasn't pleased at all that Remus and Harry had kept the secret.

They watched as Harry and Remus figured it out.

"If you take him to trial, both Harry and I will fight against you." They left the memories. "Furthermore, to prove my faith in him, I'll have you know I've left Teddy with him."

Gasps came from Molly, Minerva and Tonks. Despite everything that had happened during the day, that shocked Remus the most. It was the first time he'd seen Tonks react to their child's life.

"I'll have to clear it. He'll be charged with Dumbledore's murder but not as a Death Eater," Scrimgeour decided and left as sour as he'd arrived.

* * *

By one, when they'd catalogued the dead, Draco hadn't woken.

* * *

Had Hermione, Harry or Ron been asked, they'd have said it was a crying shame Peterson and Parkinson weren't included in the list of the dead. They'd instead been left in the hallway under the watchful eyes of their dorm-mates and arrested when the time came.

The list of bodies did, however, include Moody, Hagrid and Slughorn as those Harry knew personally, and Lucius, Bellatrix and Vincent Crabbe as a few who weren't to have a trial. They were all hidden under sheets lest a journalist sneak in and have a look.

Poppy was as professional as ever — each injured or deceased person received the same treatment as each other, despite the faction they sided with. And although Hermione's held would have given her the proper time with each patient, she never once asked for someone to disturb her sleep once word got back that that was where she, Ron and Harry had disappeared to. Molly took her place instead and tended to those who needed her like a mother tended to her stupid sons who deserved their cuts and bruises. She wasn't quite Hermione with her bed-side manner, but those stupid sons taught her how to close a gash and dress a sprain.

Minerva, as the new head of the Order, took it upon herself to tell the families of the dead members what had happened to their loved ones. Letters wouldn't suffice.

Shacklebolt would do the same for the Aurors. The dead of both groups were to receive posthumous medals and Order of Merlin status.

They'd also do what they could for the families of the Death Eaters — dead or alive — for it's all too easy to believe they were guilty by association. Sure, they'd be interrogated, but protection from the press was promised for as long as they did their bit to not draw attention to themselves. This was something Scrimgeour agreed to. Sons and daughters of Death Eaters might have been influenced by their parents' ignorant ideas, but they were still future voters.

In retrospect, Harry would be glad he passed out earlier in the day. Political bullshit pissed him off and there was a lot of it as of late.

* * *

Draco didn't wake by four, when Poppy finally got around to checking the three youngest heroes.

* * *

Poppy's first stop was with Hermione and Ron. After glaring down their guards (she _may_ have threatened them with an inspection of their own), they let her through. The pair was curled up on Ron's bed, sleeping deeply. With very gentle shakes, she woke them.

"I'm just checking on your wounds."

And with that, she changed the bandages on Ron's crippled arm. It was already looking better but it was bad enough for Ron to feel his stomach go queasy at the sight of it. Poppy, however, gave a positive hum and did a quick check of Hermione, just to make sure she was alright. The small scrapes were gone in an instant.

"I'm to understand that there's a key that I need to see those two boys?"

"Harry shouldn't be disturbed," Hermione instantly argued. "He's getting some well-deserved rest."

"I understand it's important and that you're being a very loyal friend, but I also know that he just fought the toughest battle he'll ever have to face and I'm not sure he could have gotten out of it without a scratch. I'd also like to see if Mister Malfoy's condition has changed at all."

Hermione's hand clasped around the key hanging from her neck. "It's not good in there."

"I heard."

When Parkinson had returned to the land of the conscious, she'd hysterically asked about Draco and if her kiss had cured him. She's revealed that she honestly believed that she would be the one to break the spell — Draco's non-existent feelings be damned.

She's also revealed the truth behind Peterson. He was her betrothed and a spy. When he'd heard about Draco's position in the castle, he'd done what he could to make Draco's life a living hell.

He'd been behind the beatings and the threats to Winky.

Peterson hadn't wanted an engagement to Parkinson, so setting her up with the Malfoy heir seemed to be the best option. When she got in touch with him regarding the attack, he knew it was the best time for her to change their future together and seal it with Malfoy.

Neither had expected a highly pissed-off brunette would hex them into tomorrow. They were both tended to and healed before they were shipped off with the other Death Eaters.

It was with a heavy heart that Hermione handed over the key. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt Harry's time with Draco, despite him being trapped in his nightmares, but she knew Poppy was right.

* * *

"Why is it that every time I have a nightmare about the day, the sun is never warm?"

Draco and his monster were sitting on the grass just in front of the Great Lake. It had to be noon because the sun was high and bright but it lacked the heat Draco was so used to from before he was forced out of it.

The monster seemed confused by the question, cocking his head to one side as if he didn't know that the sun was a ball of burning gas.

It lit a fire and pointed to the sky.

"How do you now that fire is hot but the sun isn't?"

It shrugged its shoulders.

"People are scared of fire but not necessarily the sun. They're more scared of the night and the darkness."

It nodded its head this time and then ducked down to nuzzle at Draco's neck. A small whimper came from it and its tail swayed in the air behind them.

The mood wasn't quite like Draco's normal nightmares. In fact, it was lazy and almost sweet, despite the fact that Draco had been killed by this monster several hundred times.

"You're different tonight. Or you're going to kill me after being so nice to me. It's a little sad."

The monster shook its head, wordlessly telling Draco that he wasn't going to be hurt.

"Then what's all this about? Since when are you nice to me?"

The monster nudged Draco's hand with its own, wrapped its taloned fingers around his and, in a move that sickened Draco to his stomach, bent low and pressed its lips against the back of his hand.

"What…?"

The monster just looked away, almost sadly. It continued to hold that hand and its tail continued to sway.

* * *

Draco didn't wake by four-fifteen.

* * *

Poppy opened the door slowly and was greeted by a sight that honestly hurt her. Harry was awake, sitting with Draco's head in his alp and his fingers buried in the mop of blonde hair.

"I'm glad to see you're awake," Poppy said, coughing lightly to clear her throat. Somewhere, her heart had gotten caught in it.

"He's not," Harry pointed out. "I kissed him, though. It should have broken the spell."

Poppy edged closer to the bed. "We don't know the true effects of the potion. Maybe there was something we missed."

Harry wasn't convinced. "Do you want to examine him? I'm not sure what you could do…"

With that, Poppy pulled out her wand and tried every spell she knew to wake a person. When everything failed, she settled for healing the minor injuries he had and turned her attention back to Harry.

"And how are you feeling?"

Bleary eyes said all his voice needed to say. "I feel like crap."

"I'm to understand you were on the receiving end of another Avada Kedavra?"

"And I got stabbed through the chest." He pointed at the hole in his robes.

"Oh." She gave it a quick look but Hermione's skills were great. A small scar remained. "What happened when the spell hit you?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted and his head fell back against the stone wall. "It was bright and painful but I knew I had to make it back to the Tower because something had happened to Draco…" He took a deep breath. "It sort of felt like I pushed the curse away and I haven't been able to use my magic since."

Poppy perked up. "What do you mean?"

"I tried to close the curtains with a spell but they didn't so much as wave. I even tried it with my wand and that just felt like dead wood in my hand."

"This…this is interesting. I might have to consult another…" She was rambling to herself. "Yes. I'll do that. I need you to get some rest."

She stood and closed the blinds for him and was gone.

* * *

Forty-seven minutes later, Draco still hadn't woken, but a different Malfoy was moving about the grounds.

* * *

The crowd parted when Narcissa appeared, flanked by two Aurors who were determined to keep her in their sight and safe from the partying group that was now several hundred strong.

Somehow the word had spread that Draco was on the light side and that his mother had abandoned him.

Strangely enough, a few of the nastier, not-yet-on-the-shelves products by the Weasleys appeared roughly around the same time, but one can never know where rumours start. And those products most certainly weren't aimed at the drunks who demanded they see their saviour because alcohol makes them invincible and gives them the right to order others around. They were also shared to the small group who weren't quite Death Eaters, but were anguished enough to accuse Harry of murdering their lord.

But the crowd parted, nonetheless, almost biblically, as Narcissa was brought up to the castle to see her child. Glares were thrown her way — some even shouted at her — but what really had the crowd gaping was the one person who threw his drink in her face. Holding herself as regally as she could with mead flowing down her face and darkening her hair, she held her head high and continued forward. The idiot was restrained by one of the Aurors as a deterrent for others. They caught on.

When she walked through the doors, the room was just as hostile.

Molly was the one who approached her.

"What are you doing here?" With her hands on her hips, Molly almost looked like she was ready to scold a child rather than another mother.

"Parents of the children who fought in the war are allowed to see their children," Narcissa stated.

The Aurors beside her sighed. "She pulled the political card. Scrimgeour is allowing it," one advised Molly.

"Oh, he may _allow_ her access to the castle, but _I'm_ denying her the right to see her son. I find it hard to believe you'd turn your back on him when he needed you the most and now you feel the need to see him? You've got some plan to escape or to hurt Harry…"

"I gave myself up so I could see him. I might have been wrong with my decisions a few months ago but I am still his mother and I love him very much. Do not doubt that."

"Well, I can tell you that he was not hurt during the battle but was kissed by someone who wasn't his one true love afterwards. He's due to wake at nightfall but we're not sure if he will or if he's forever stuck in his nightmares."

That was when Narcissa's infamous resolve cracked.

"There's a chance he'll be tortured for the rest of his life?" Tears sprung to her eyes. "What can be done for him?"

"If he doesn't wake tonight, it'll probably be left in the hands of Madam Pomfrey."

"Why her? I'm his mother."

"You're to be taken to Azkaban after this," the other Auror pointed out.

"And he's an adult anyway. You might be his next of kin…"

And so started the ethical debate that lasted several hours.

* * *

When the sun set after six, Draco still hadn't woken.

* * *

Harry watched the sun go down and Draco didn't move. His hopes shot sky-high when he saw the blonde's hand clench on the pillow beside his head but nothing else happened.

"Jesus," he groaned and his eyes slide shut. He wasn't alone for long. There was a knock on the door before Poppy stuck her head in, having kept the key from before.

"The moon's in the sky," she said softly and entered the room. Shock struck Harry like lightening when Narcissa and two Aurors followed here through the door.

"You can get the hell out of this room," Harry snapped but Narcissa didn't listen. Her eyes focused on her unconscious son.

"He should be awake, shouldn't he?" she asked weakly, stepping forward. "It's night. He should be awake at night. It's how it works, right?"

"It's how it normally works but it got a little fucked up today."

The normally regal woman, who would have been offended by the crude language, could only shuffle closer to her son.

"That stupid bitch," Narcissa muttered and reached out to grab Draco's hand. "That stupid, selfish bitch." She turned her wet eyes to Poppy. "What do we do now?"

Poppy resisted the urge to shrug her shoulders and be done with it. "We need more research. We need to see if anyone under this curse has been kissed by someone other than their one true love." She looked at Harry. "Have you tried…?"

"It did nothing."

Narcissa looked like she was going to choke on her tongue. "_You_ believe you're his…?"

"You have no right to lecture me about loving him. I might have taken my time but I never abandoned him."

The words hit Narcissa in ways he hadn't intended them to.

"What do you mean by you took your time? You could have prevented this by kissing him sooner?"

Harry didn't confirm or deny this. His silence, however, was enough for the distraught mother. With a snap of her wrist, she leant up and slapped Harry across the face before the Aurors pounced. In seconds, she was restrained and pinned her to the floor in a sobbing mess.

"He did this!" she accused, but one of the Aurors argued.

"_Your lord_ did this," he told her and his eyes flickered to Harry. "The only person you can blame, if not yourself, is your dead master."

And with that, they pulled her up and away. "You saw your child, just like any other parent," the other hissed. It would seem as if the rumours of Draco switched sides had reached them as well, for they seemed awfully insulted by her presence.

Harry would thank the twins for that later.

But for now, he'd settle for watching Draco as he tried to fathom what he had done (or rather, his lack of actions that led them to this mess).

* * *

At seven, Winky brought Harry his dinner, but Harry was still sleeping.

* * *

The thought of eating made Harry feel ill. If Draco never opened his eyes, he'd never taste food ever again. They'd be able to sustain him through the use of magic but he'd never be able to eat.

"I don't want it," Harry grumbled to Winky as she laid her tray down on the desk.

"Master Harry needs to ear, sir, and Winky is not sure if Master Draco would like to know his one true love is starving himself, sir.

"What he doesn't know can't hurt him."

"Winky likes to imagine that Master Draco is always being aware of Master Harry. Why else would Master Draco be soothed by Master Harry's touch and Master Harry's touch alone?"

Those words did him in. The house-elf was right and apparently a genius at making people take care of themselves. With a sigh, Harry got up and sat in front of the desk. He ate slowly, almost with an attitude, until it was finished.

Soon after, there was a knock on the door, which was answered.

Poppy and Minerva were there and were quickly invited inside by the elf.

"We feel we might have an answer as to why you weren't killed with that final attack," Minerva announced. She was looking a little ragged, which made sense since she would have been running around for nearly six hours straight now.

"But what about Draco?" Harry asked.

A deep sigh was torn from Minerva's throat. "Now he gets to be trapped in his dreams until we get this legal mess sorted. Mrs Malfoy is petitioning to have power of attorney as his remaining next of kin, but she's destined for Azkaban. Poppy is fighting it, as his physician. I've suggested that the Tonks offer their assistance as they're his only living relatives on this side of the war."

"And what will they decide from there?"

"Whether to euthanize him or not."

If the food had made Harry feel sick, the thought of killing Draco made him weak. They were going to let him die because he'd never wake.

"But that decision won't be made for a long time," Poppy assured him. "For now, the question is if he's better here or in a hospital."

"He can stay here. I can take care of him."

"First, you have to be able to take care of yourself. You've been locked in here all day. Perhaps you should take a trip to the bathrooms and shower before we take you to meet with Scrimgeour…"

"Why would I be meeting with him?"

"He has news regarding Voldemort's death," Minerva explained.

"And it'll give me a chance to tend to Mister Malfoy here," Poppy finished.

"I can…" Harry started but the Mediwitch waved him off.

"If you've not had the time to use the bathroom, how has he? Your bladder doesn't sleep because you do and I very much doubt you know how to set up these spells."

When Harry looked ready to fight against her decision, Minerva stepped forward and wrapped a hand around his upper arm. She then dragged him out into the hallway and threw him to his roommates.

"Get him cleaned up, would you? Then you can bring him to my office. The password is _victorious_."

By the time Harry was done in the bathroom and had made his way to Dumbledore's old office, no one else was there. For just a moment, perhaps five minutes after he arrived, Minerva popped her head in and told him something else needed her attention and that she'd be there in a few minutes.

So Harry was left alone, feeling like a fair idiot, as he looked around the office that once meant so much to him.

He slumped down into one of the plush armchairs — it had been well-used this day and at least a dozen tea cups with cold dregs remained on every surface — and he began to curse his life.

When he started to vocally hate himself, a familiar tut had him shooting up so fast it hurt a little.

There he was, in all his painted glory, the man who changed Harry's life for the better. A quick glance around the room told Harry that the other painted headmasters had disappeared and Dumbledore was staring right at him.

"Hello."

Harry blinked at him stupidly for a moment. "Hello? _Hello_?"

"It is a customary greeting, is it not?" That damned twinkle was there.

"I'm not really in the mood for _customary greetings_. It's been one hell of a day."

"So I've heard. People have been in and out of this office like it was the Great Hall. You seem to have taken quite a few blows. A sword and the killing curse? That must have been interesting."

"Lucius said it didn't kill me because of the prophecy. Is that true?"

The portrait sighed and lowered himself down into the chair he was painted with. "That's what we've concluded."

"And the curse? Why didn't that kill me?"

"For the same reason it didn't kill you the first time. Love."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that spell wore off a long time ago."

"It's not the same spell."

"What else could it be?"

If a portrait had the ability to stare someone down, that would have been the moment. That was also the moment it clicked in Harry's head.

"Oh."

"What did you think in that moment before it hit you?"

A thick blush covered Harry's cheeks. "I saw the Tower. I thought Draco was hurt."

"You had to get to him."

Harry nodded his head. "When I got upset at the thought of losing him, it felt like something _pushed_ the curse out of me. I'd felt it enter me and it was killing me but I knew that if I died, Draco would be in danger."

"So your love took control of your magic, strengthened it and became enough to withstand Tom's attack."

"Oh."

Harry was thankful he'd been sitting the entire time. Being told that your love for another boy, despite having already known the strength and the power of love, had literally saved your life was more than a little intimidating.

"This is crazy. How can any of this be possible?"

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "Who can say? Twice now you've been saved by love. Best not to question it." The wink didn't go unnoticed.

"Is there anything else I should know about? I locked myself in Draco's room…"

Dumbledore explained everything Harry missed. They were both silent as they mourned the deaths of those they cared about — Hagrid especially — and relieved when Severus was cleared of the Death Eater rank.

"As for your magic, I believe you might have overused what you have. You're powerful, my boy, but the magic needed to keep you safe is beyond what you had access to. For now, you need to rest up."

Minerva joined afterwards and shooed Harry back when she'd confirmed he'd learnt everything from Dumbledore. He went back to Draco's side and promptly fell asleep in bed next to him.

* * *

When Harry woke at seven forty-three in the morning, it was because Draco was shaking him.

* * *

It had been a dreamless sleep — one of those really deep ones you think lasted only twenty minutes but the whole night actually passed. So when Harry opened his eyes and found a very worried Draco Malfoy staring back at him, he naturally assumed it was still night and the blonde had woken up of his own accord.

"Merlin's balls, you're a hard one to wake!" Draco exclaimed when he finally accomplished it.

Harry saw the irony in the statement.

"You're one to talk."

"Sun goes up, I go down. Not so complicated." Had this been any other situation, they both probably would have blushed at his words. "What happened last night?"

"We won."

So many emotions flickered across Draco's face, from ecstasy through to devastation when he remembered his father's sacrifice. However, there was one more part that Harry knew he had to tell him about.

"We won, but Parkinson kissed you."

And then he lost all colour from his face. Harry pushed himself up and reached out for his intended lover.

"How did she get up here?" He could barely find his voice. "It's protected. You need the key…this is a nightmare. It has to be."

Warm hands cupped his face, tried to steal his attention back. "Peterson was a Death Eater. He let her in."

"No…"

"I-I kissed you afterwards, but you wouldn't wake. Even when it turned to night, you stayed unconscious. We didn't know if you'd wake up or not. Your mother…"

"_My mother_? She was here?"

"She's fighting for legal rights to decide if we should have…" Harry couldn't finish the sentence.

"They were talking about letting me die if I didn't wake." Sometimes, being raised to be a heartless prat had its perks. He could say what was needed to be said. "What did my mother suggest?"

"I think she wanted to put you into a hospital. The Aurors took her away."

Draco flopped back on the mattress with a sigh. "This cannot be happening."

Harry slipped beside him and reached for his hand. "I am so sorry." Draco's eyes slipped shut but his fingers wrapped around Harry's. "I wish I'd…"

"Stop," Draco breathed and Harry froze when he saw a tear trickle down his cheek. With a deep sigh, Draco turned his head towards Harry and froze. "It's a nightmare."

"Hmm?"

Draco's free fingers came up to rest on his shoulder. "I can feel it."

The world turned into a giant whirl of Malfoy as Draco rolled off the bed and tore off through the door.

A few seconds passed before Harry was on his feet and following.

He didn't know where Draco was heading but he left in his wake a row of seventeen-year-old boys pointing down the stairs as they wordlessly directed him to where Draco had gone. He ran down the stairs and followed him out the door. He saw a glimpse of him as Draco continued down the halls, obviously heading towards the Great Hall.

"Draco, wait!" Harry tried to call after him, but something caught his eye.

Something big and bright and warm.

"Oh my God."

He started to chase Draco faster.

There was no surprise when those still in the Hall were startled by their sudden appearances and tried to stop the both of them from running out to the front gardens.

By the time the grass crunched under Harry's feet, Draco was already standing in the middle of a group of shocked youngsters.

It was breathtaking, seeing this beautifully pale creature in the light of the sun. Having been forced into the dark for so long, virtually all of the colour he once had was gone.

"I can feel it. It's _real_."

"What is?"

"The sun. The heat."

Draco took one step towards Harry was and was in his arms. Harry was surprised when warm lips found his own but didn't stop himself from wrapping his arms around Draco's slim waist.

When they parted, a little breathless, mind, they still managed to ignore the hoard of onlookers, who'd even snapped up a few photos of their shared moment.

"What? I don't get it?" Harry breathed when Draco pressed their foreheads together. A broad grin was on the blonde's face.

"The monster never knew anything good. He never knew that the sun is warm and beautiful. It's not a dream. It's not a nightmare."

Delighted, Draco's arms tightened around Harry's shoulders and pulled him back for another kiss.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

The sun had never felt so good before. After going months without seeing it, Draco Malfoy-Potter was doing everything he could do be in it. He loved to feel the hot rays sizzling his skin. He loved the light of it and the red tinge he saw when his eyes were closed. He loved the creatures and the plants it gave life to. The sun, the day — he loved every moment of it.

Draco walked under the morning sun, shirtless, and turned to wave thanks to Nico, the Fijian man who'd taken him out on his speedboat, the Zorro. Nico grinned widely and returned the wave before he sped off to the main beach. Draco started on his trek back to his bure, where his newly-wed husband was waiting for him.

For three years now, Draco was up before the sun even rose, just to make sure that he was capable of doing it. And here, on his honeymoon, he wasn't going to make any exception. The Fijian sunrise was breathtaking, especially from the veranda of Draco and Harry's beachfront bure.

He'd been snorkelling, so he had his mask, fins and snorkel in his hand as he walked across the warm white sand. His wet feet picked up a thick layer of sand, but that didn't bother him at all. The sun was shining, he was married, planning on adopting and everything was perfect. He was even beyond the fact that he had the Dark Mark etched into his skin. The moment he had turned eighteen, he'd gone to a Muggle tattoo parlour to get it re-inked and added in the Mohawk Harry was so fond of drawing.

Draco turned left and walked up the slightly beaten path up to the veranda. A heavy thud came from somewhere behind him and he turned lightning fast, expecting to see a creature he hadn't seen in years. The counselling had told him that the monster wasn't real and that the monster would never be in his life again, but it was harder to shrug it off than he thought it would be. There had been some intense sessions there, where they delved deep into his psyche and had even used magic to seal away the parts he couldn't deal with until he had the strength to face them. Five days a week, he sat with his therapist, trying to get a grasp on reality again. Thankfully, it had all worked.

So, instead of his monster, he saw a coconut on the ground, just a few feet from where he'd just been. He shrugged and picked it up before he stepped inside the small pool of water just before the veranda started. It was there just so the guests could wash their feet off before entering the bure and getting sand everywhere. While he did this, he fished for the key attached to the shell he'd zipped into the pocket of his board shorts. All the keys were like this, connected to giant scallop shells with the number of their bure etched into the beautiful pinks and purples. He unlocked the glass door and slid it open to enter the hut.

The island they were on was a completely Muggle island. He and Harry had decided that they wanted a break from the fame they had in the wizarding world (especially since so many resorts had sent them letters, begging to be chosen for their honeymoon), so they found a perfect little island in Fiji and fell in love with it. Harry had taught him how to use the air conditioner (which was a blessing after going to this tropical paradise during an English winter) and Draco felt a small tingle of pride in his stomach as he cranked it up with the remote control. At first, he wasn't too sure about it since it was dripping water onto the couch, but Harry explained that it was normal.

Speaking of Harry, he was nowhere to be seen. Draco had left him in their bed, but the bed was completely empty. A grin found its way onto Draco's face when he heard that the shower was running. They hadn't been able to use the shower much. According to the manager, they were running low on fresh water because a hurricane had come through and destroyed the pipes that carried the water from the main island to the outer islands. Every island resort was having the same problem.

Draco dumped everything he'd been holding and turned to switch the turtle sign dangling through the glass window to say that they weren't to be disturbed and closed the massive curtains, blocking out the sun. It always hurt him a little to do that, but it could be forgiven this one time.

He entered the bathroom and found his husband washing the shampoo out of his hair. Harry grinned widely and opened the glass door to the shower, inviting his lover in.

"Where've you been?" Harry asked, angling the showerhead up higher.

"Snorkelling," Draco replied, shucking out of his already-dry shorts to join Harry. He pressed a quick kiss to Harry's lips before he let Harry turn him around. The brunette directed Draco's head under the spray before he started to work in the shampoo (Draco's special shampoo, not Harry's, of course). Draco knew Harry had a thing for his hair. Harry had admitted to being slightly obsessed with it when Draco was sleeping the days away. He told him that he would play with it all the time and now that Draco was awake for it, he was quickly learning that he loved to receive that attention. "Sea water is horrible for my hair."

Harry hummed, confirming this, and bent to kiss Draco's slightly freckled shoulder. "All these little freckles are popping up because you've been out in the sun so much."

"I can't help it."

"At least you're not tanning. I love it how you're so pale."

"That's the sunscreen Severus gave us. It's to stop me from burning and lets me keep my normal colour."

"Ah."

Harry rinsed out the shampoo carefully and started to work on soaping up his husband's back. Three years had filled Draco out. Not as much as Harry had, but he no longer seemed underweight.

"It might be horrible for my hair, but sea water's a great exfoliate."

Harry chuckled. "You really are gay, aren't you?"

Draco looked over his shoulder to glare at Harry playfully, but that changed when Harry's hands moved lower. Draco's body instantly reacted to Harry's hands. They moved up and down his back and over his shoulders, but with each down stroke, they got lower and lower until Harry was cupping his rear, separating the cheeks, before moving back up.

"So, what did you see in the water?"

Draco moaned softly as Harry teased his hole with a finger before answering. "I saw a shark. It was just a white-tipped reef shark, apparently, but I…I saw one." He started to pant, feeling Harry's finger slip in quickly before darting back out. "And I saw coral…lots of coral. And fish and starfish and…" Harry gently worked his finger in completely and started thrusting it in and out.

"Yeah? Anything else?"

"A stingray. I was really hoping to see a turtle, like the baby ones they have in the," Draco paused when Harry pressed in a second finger, slick with the soap, "the baby ones in the tank for preservation."

"Didn't see any, though?"

"Nope."

"And how far away was the shark?"

"Merlin, Potter, you're horrible at talking dirty."

Draco felt Harry laugh against his shoulder and he pushed in a third finger. "How far away was it?"

"A few metres."

"What colour were the fish? And the starfish?"

The fingers were spreading, getting him to open up. "Harry…"

"I didn't realise that was a colour."

Draco glared at him again but had his lips caught in a fierce kiss the moment he craned his neck to see him.

This was also something Draco had overindulged in after the potion was finally over and done with. Harry's kisses were amazing and something squirmed in him when he realised these kisses were forever his. The matching rings they wore on their fingers said so, especially since it was terribly difficult to get a divorce in the magical world.

Harry removed his fingers and Draco turned properly. His arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders while they kissed, mapping each other's mouths out like they hadn't done it a thousand times before.

Draco pulled away and pressed smiling kisses to Harry's shoulder when the stronger man's hands grasped his thighs and lifted him, pressing up against the tiled wall. Draco's legs wrapped around Harry's waist and he looked down at his lover.

Harry stood before him browned from the sun, slick from the water and beaming up at him with love and happiness in his eyes. A wide smile covered his features and his waterlogged fringe covered up that infamous scar. His shoulders were broad and he was the man Draco wanted to be with for the rest of his life. It was something he'd decided back when they were still teenagers, back when they were seventeen, but at the age of twenty, Draco was happy with his life. He was happy with the man he saw, both in the mirror and the one before him, who loved him in return.

There was something so wonderful in the way Draco could feel the wedding band on Harry's left hand as Harry's hand travelled down Draco's side.

"I love you," Draco said softly, running his hand through Harry's sopping hair.

Harry's beautiful green eyes shone up at him. "I love you, too."

And then he moved, pressing himself into Draco's body, but the mood was thoroughly destroyed by Draco's laughter.

"Umm, what?"

"The water pressure just died, git," Draco snickered. "Remember the hurricane? Water's sparse."

Harry grumbled and pressed his hand against the other wall. Draco gasped and tingled from the inside out when he felt Harry's incredible power and suddenly the water was gushing down on them like a waterfall.

This was what Harry indulged in. It might have taken him a few years of therapy and training, but his magic was back to what it used to be.

"Better?"

Draco smirked at him before bouncing slightly, pulling a happy groan from Harry's throat. "Good; let's try this again."

Wrapping arms tighter around Draco, Harry pressed his mouth to Draco's neck and started to thrust up into him.

And as Harry made love to him, Draco reached up with one hand to grab at the window ledge to give him more leverage. As his fingers bent over the top, he smiled and looked up, feeling the heat of the sun on his fingertips. He returned his gaze to Harry and saw that Harry had seen it as well and was now looking at him with a broad grin. Draco used his free hand to steer Harry's face to his own and they kissed again.

Life had become his fairytale.

* * *

**Thank you so very much for reading**

**-Jinko**


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